My ten year old son has always suffered with developmental delays; you name it, he did it late. He pretty much survived off of baby food until he was four. ‘Nuff said.

Lately he’s been lying a lot. Actually, “a lot” doesn’t do it justice. Even though we have a rule in our house that you won’t get in trouble as long as you are honest, he has been tossing untruths around like they have wings. I am hoping this is a developmentally-delayed phase and not something we’ll have to deal with much longer.

I should stress that these lies are usually about nothing. Like, absolutely nothing. For instance:

Me: What was that noise?

Him: Well, I think I heard something…

Me: Just tell me the truth. What was the noise?

Him: Okay. I bounced a ball.

I finally grew completely weary of his games last night and he is entering his second full day of no video games, computer or television. As we sat at the dinner table I explained that we will tolerate a lot in this house, but dishonesty is not one of them; then I detailed his punishment.

When I finished I gave him a good, hard glare as if to ask, “Well, what do you have to say for yourself?”

And, he understood exactly what I was saying with that look because he replied, “I think it would be easier if I just went to live with a family of liars.”

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Today’s post can be found here.

I’m talking about the importance of taking care of YOU in order to survive the school year. Trust me. Anyway, you deserve it!

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My 8th grade daughter needed some help with her algebra homework tonight. Because I can barely remember what I did yesterday, let alone what I did in math class 27 years ago, I had to Google the question in order to find the formula, which would help her find the equation. Confused? Me too.

One of the first websites I came across was called something like “Math is Fun!” which is where I sat and stared at my computer screen for a good three minutes before I could even figure out what I was looking at. It was basically a collage of letters, numbers, exclamation points and parentheses; then my brain exploded. Math is not fun for everyone. Just ask my brain.

The truth is, if it weren’t for the internet I wouldn’t be able to help her with algebra at all and I highly doubt that my parents would have been able to help me nearly three decades ago, either. You know, if parents had been inclined to help with homework back then. They didn’t drive us anywhere either. We rode our bikes. Uphill. Both ways.

I digress.

My point is, some people complain that modern technology is a detriment to the minds of our children, but if we didn’t have it in this house, the detriment would be all mine.

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Well, you have to admit – when I fail, I fail big.

I forgot about blogging somewhere between preparing for Thanksgiving dinner (which included my brining a turkey and making homemade pumpkin pie…take THAT, Martha!), four days of single-parenthood while my husband was visiting with my brother-in-law, putting up the Christmas decorations, the Ohio-State Michigan game and four nights worth of overnight guests (and I know they’re reading this, so I feel I should say that I LOVE having them here…really…*waves* *blows kisses*…I enjoy their company and it forces me to clean, so bonus) (except I didn’t get to enjoy their company because all I did was clean, so bonus negated).

There’s always next year, right?

Plus, I kind of have an addictive personality and I have been desperately trying to focus my addiction on exercise and nutrition. *gnaws kale* With the exception of a LOT of beer over the past few days, I didn’t go overboard. If you count the beer, then I went overboard and nearly drowned. The good thing is that I had enough empties to build a raft. I blame football.

Although I let my blogging slide, I still made it to the gym twice over the weekend. Excuse me while I puff up my chest. Now, excuse me while I stop puffing up my chest because it hurts my pecs too much.

And, it’s nice to have the Christmas decorating finished. We put everything up the day after Thanksgiving and it all comes down the day after Christmas. My daughter’s birthday is at the end of December, and because she gets completely cheated out of birthday presents each year, it’s the least we can do to make sure there isn’t a lit tree trying to steal her birthday cake’s thunder.

So yeah, I failed at NaBloPoMo, but I win at decorating, sore muscles and beer drinking.

Which, clearly, makes me a winner.

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