Life in the Slow Lane

My Granny car is affectionately called the Bugle. It has been off-roading through creek beds with two squirmy twins strapped in back, it has carried a dorm fridge and fish tank with relatively little harm to the contents of each, and it has seen about 100,000 miles with me. But alas, and woe, it was in an accident two months ago that left it blind in one eye. I was not driving at the time, nor was the car in any way to blame, but suddenly I feel like a horrible driver. I can't use the left turn signal, and I know people are scolding me for being lazy and not caring about their safety enough to turn the dumb signal on. And every time I execute a less than perfect turn, I can hear people thinking "Woa, crazy driver. Watch out for her, look how badly she managed to bash in her car." Of course the smoke coming from under the Bugle's hood today didn't help. People always want to make statements with their car, but I think my Granny car is done making statements and is ...

Today we celebrate our 250th post here at Life in the Slow Lane. Now you may ask why do we celebrate it today and not yesterday when we also could have had our 250th post or even waiting until tomorrow to have our celebration. Well the reasoning is this: Today is February (the second month) of 2006 and today is the 26th day of that month. Isn't that a lot of pretty twos and sixes? If that isn't enough good, sound reasoning for you, how is this: We just marked a year and a half of blogging and the fact that we reach such a nice round number as 250 posts during this nice round number of months, is just too good to pass up. Okay, so really none of those reasons are the real reason that we are celebrating 250 posts today. Mostly it is just because I am tired of these maps leaking off the page into my sidebar and mixing with the links and so I want to put in another post so that they will move farther down and so remain more separate.

There are some things that we assume will always be part of childhood: Crayons that can have their labels peeled off so that you can color in broad side-ways strokes instead of using just the point... sandwiches where the crusts are left behind... peanut butter and jelly where the goopy goodness squeezes out the back while you take a bite from the front... These seem like they should be included in the definition of childhood. But no longer. Our bigger and better and more hygenic world has gotten rid of these things. Crayons come in "Twistables", encased in plastic with little, wimpy surfaces for coloring. Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches come as "Uncrustables" that are little sealed bread pockets. And, if "Uncrustables" don't provide enough options for going without the crust, you can buy loaves of bread that come without any crust. Any day now they will introduce a product that will keep great aunts from pinching little cheeks and remarking on how ...

I've been wanting to do this for years. Very cool. States I've visited create your own personalized map of the USA Countries I've visited create your own visited country map

When you spend a great deal of time with people who have not yet learned to articulate, you spend a great deal of time solving riddles. "Bumfus, I wan Bumfus" no matter that it is 2:00 in the afternoon, this child is asking for breakfast. "Mmmmmmmm! Mmmmmmmmm!" Yes, dear, there is the moon." With instances like these, pointing and gesturing on the part of the child helps the adult figure out the solution to the problem. Enter 10 bazillion children's toys based on TV shows, movies, computer games, books, etc., etc. They have names. The kids know the names. If I happened to be familiar with all of the TV shows, movies, computer games, books, etc., etc. I would know the names, but, even though I live life in the slow lane, I am not personally acquainted with the names of Sponge Bob Square Pants (where in the world do you put the possesive on that name?) top ten friends/enemies, nor that egg headed kid and his friends who are on Playhouse Disney at 9 am weekday...

Sometimes I receive a look that says "What kind of horrible mother are you?" Usually I get that look when one of my charges is lying in a tangled mass of limbs and scooter. I'm sitting calmly in the lawn chair making notes on my to-do list and the concerned drivers of cars going past slow to a near stop and make urgent pointing gestures towards the downed racer. I haven't come up with a good way of letting the neighbors know that while it appears that there is a three year old dying on the front lawn, it really is a professional motorcross contestant hearing the wild cheers of the crowds for the recently executed stunt. But then again, I also haven't come up with a good way of letting people know I'm not the child's mother. A mother is expected to say "thank you" when their child is complimented. Every one else can say "I think so, too." I frequently find myself wondering "Should I be the polite mother and say 'thank you' e...

Once again I find myself taking back an earlier statement with regards to The Wiggles. The online Wiggles games actually do provide a bit of entertainment. I actually laughed when I discovered it today. They have one " game " that whenever you click on a shape it has one of The Wiggles say it aloud. They have the normal shapes... triangle, square, circle, rectangle, and then they have a dodecahedron. Apparently, some people have trouble pronouncing it.

Yesterday it took me an hour and 45 minutes to get to work when it normally takes me 12 minutes. This is the result of taking public transportation. But don't feel sorry for me... I saw places I had heard of but never really believed existed since I had never seen them, I felt good knowing I was sparing the air, I calculated exactly how much gasoline I saved, I was able to have a pleasant walk, and I got the closest I've ever gotten to Governor Schwarzenegger. At least I think it was the Governor. The bus had to stop to let a procession go by while we were at the airport and there were four motorcycles and a snazzy car with all of the windows darkened so you couldn't see in. I didn't even know we had one of those cars in this area. But I also didn't know that the Governor was visiting, and he was. Who knew public transportation offered so much?

Today we at Slowlane start a new feature: Babysitter's Review. Baby Computer Games For those of you who are losing sleep wondering how to teach your young children that your computer is not a toy, pay attention. For those of you who remember with great nostalgia your years of hanging out with the gang at Sesame Street, be prepared. For those of you who are looking into non-violent ways of inflicting pain, be amazed. I present to you the following: Sesame Street The Wiggles and Fisher-Price I am sure there are more out there, but these are the ones I have had experience with. I will begin by speaking to those of you who are looking for non-violent ways of inflicting pain, as you will have the least patience for reading all of the details. 1) Get child hooked on "Chicken Dance Elmo" found on Sesame Street . 2) Send child to intended victim while intended victim is in "comfort mode" on the computer. 3) Repeat and enjoy. (Note: This works most effectively on ...

1) If you kick the ball out of bounds, it doesn't count. If I kick the ball out of bounds, I get a point. 2) If you kick the ball and I touch it with my hand before it rolls past me, you don't get a point. If you touch the ball as it goes past you, I still get a point. 3) If you kick the ball way past me, it doesn't count because you aren't allowed to kick it that hard. If I kick the ball way past you, I get 19 points. 4) If you kick the ball into the goal, you get minus one point. 5) If you kick the ball while I'm not looking, it doesn't count. If I kick the ball while you aren't looking, I get 19 points.

I do not consider myself to be a stand up comedienne. I have my standard list of jokes that I will tell with very little prompting (Did you hear about the terrorist that tried to blow up a bus? He burned his lips on the exhaust pipe.), and I have a collection of bazaar things that I will relate (I'm thinking of getting my feet a)professionally cleaned and b) insured because a day in babysitting land hardly goes by without one of the kids taking off my socks, pointing at my painted toe nails, sniffing my feet, and/or using my feet as a monster truck ramp, etcetera, etcetera. More and more kids seem to be realizing what fun can be had with my feet. Maybe I should start charging a special "Play with feet" rate.), but when it comes down to "Say something funny now" I'm likely to have a mind blank. That is why it was with some misgivings that I agreed to play a game where every time I lost, I had to say something funny. Round One: My loss. "Um... so there is...

Do not neglect this privilege now set before you. Vote! For those of you who are new to this world of blogs and have only arrived here because of my endless pestering, click on the word "Vote!" and you should be taken to a website where there is a small box on the right of the screen where you can vote for my entry "The Hidden Costs of Education." Thank you all, and good night.

If the male readers of this blog could help me out on this question, I would appreciate it greatly: How critical to your development were near death experiences and wounds earned by your study of the properties of momentum, gravity, and the juxtaposition of the two? Discuss.

I thought you all might like to know that 14 people on epinions.com say that the Great Wall of China is worthwhile. Now that you know that, doesn't your estimation of the Great Wall increase?

Last night I watched Cinderella II with the girls. If you aren't familiar with this Disney classic, it is a collection of three "novellas" that take place after Cinderella has become princess. Shockingly, the moral of the story is to "Be true to yourself and follow your heart." Anyway, at the end of the movie.... oops, sorry, I forgot this: *Warning: Spoilers* Anyway, at the end of the movie, Cinderella has caused everyone to love her very much, even her not-so-wicked-just-highly-misguided step-sister, and they have a grand ball. At this grand ball, Cinderella dances with the handsome-but-hardly-seen prince. At this point little Miss Three Year Old asks me "Why are they dancing? They already got married."

Take a look at this . Scroll down just a bit and see if you don't find something familiar. Might I actually get a check? It would certainly make up for the silly six dollars I had to pay a year ago.

Two of my kids got a super-delux insect catching kit for Christmas. It has a habitat complete with waterfall, sand pit, and scenic backdrop. It also has a magnifying glass and two easy-open lids. For getting insects into the habitat, they provide the option of a set of tongs and a bug vacuum. We went hunting for bugs. We found three snails, a tiny caterpillar, and a number of small insects I didn't recognize that flew away if we breathed too heavily near them. But what I have to confess is this: in one short sighted moment I thought to myself "Self, if these kids try to pick up this caterpillar with either the tongs or the vacuum, we are going to have a rather tragic end to our observations." So I, thinking quickly, picked the leaf where the caterpillar sat and tucked it into the observatory. Only as I instructed my charges on how to make sure the new friend remained happy did it occur to me the folly of my ways. Said Mr. Three Year Old "I want to touch him." Sa...