Skip to main content

Fish Meatballs

Some kids can understand concepts naturally. They can learn as easy as a snap of the fingers. Some are a little different. Those children need a little more help learning basic concepts and understanding them. For instance, this crayon is first and that crayon is last. Some kids just get it without being taught. Others need reinforcement on the words and positions. I love my homeschool curriculum. It gives me the choice of whether to teach the basic concepts or just give them the worksheet and say, "Read the directions and do it." I have the same curriculum for two of my sons each in a different grade. With one son, I am able to say the latter. With the other son, I must teach the basics. It is rather interesting to me that each of my sons have come from my womb, and yet they are so very different from each other. I have one in kindergarten and occasionally he manages to surprise me into laughter. It has been a joy to teach him because I believe it has brought us closer. No one knows him or understands him like I do. I have realized that there is a brain inside that head of his and he has even discovered that. He occasionally says in wonder, "I have a brain inside my skull and my skull protects my brain!" all the while making a fist and pounding his head. One day, we were doing math together. We were looking at a worksheet with marbles inside and outside a fish bowl. They were pretty big for marbles so I looked at them in confusion and said, "I'm not sure what those are supposed to be." My brilliant son said, "They're fish meatballs!" Well, of course, they were. Now that was a no-brainer.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

The Top 20 Clean Romance Movies Of All Time

I'm really picky when it comes to romantic movies. I prefer them clean and it's really hard to find those kind of romance movies these days. Nowadays, romantic movies are chock full of butts, boobs, and beds. Just sayin'. I was bored one day and decided to google the top romance movies of all time. You have got to be kidding me. One list had Brokeback Mountain on it. Pulease. I was, in fact, so disgusted by all of the lists that I came across that I decided to make my own. I decided to call it The Top 16 Clean Romance Movies of All Time, well, because I couldn't think of anymore to make it an even top 20. Now, my list might be different from most people. I said I was picky. First, I don't like b***** women. That scratches out a whole pile of popular movies. One of them being Gone With The Wind. Does anyone besides me want to smack that woman? Second, I don't like it when the couple end up in bed together. Uh, I don't really need to know, thankyouverymuch. Th...

Grooming Gargoyles

Some say boys are much easier to raise.  I can see that.  Girls have that PMS thing going on once a month and who wants to deal with that?  Not me.  It's bad enough I have to deal with myself.  Plus, girls can be overly dramatic and cry a lot....wait.  Maybe they aren't too different from boys.  However, there is one thing that I probably wouldn't have to deal with if I had girls instead of boys. That would be hygiene. Being a girl myself, I know that girls like smelling nice.  We love to take baths and soak in sweet smelling bubbles and make our skin feel smooth.  No way are we going without brushing our teeth just in case our honey wants to steal a kiss.  Hair, makeup, deoderant...let's face it.  We are not going to face the day without looking good. My boys are different. They would wallow in their own filth and revel in it.  Big Mac Attack has finally gotten to the point where HH and I don't have to nag him to take ...

Surprise, Surprise

Our cute, little booger is being potty-trained now. Oh, joy. I hate potty-training. To me, there's nothing cute about it. It's a nasty, disgusting business and I'd rather it pass by without me having to do with it. The nasty, disgusting part is really not the part that I hate the most. It's the fact that I have to get off my patoosky every stinking hour to place the cute, little patoosky on the potty chair. Let's face it, I'd rather be doing something else. He is the last one, though, so I will prevail in this. I must or the child will be using my floor for a potty chair for years to come. Case in point. Sneezy came to me with a soiled diaper telling me that he "poot". I don't know why I didn't believe him. Maybe because I didn't smell it, but I took his diaper off thinking there were no surprises. Well, that surprise plopped out onto my carpet and I gasped in shock with my jaw to the floor. Since Sneezy was standing in close proximity...