The Witch Has Been Banned by Cracker Barrel!

Okay, I haven't really been banned from there, but the darling Czech Pecker says my photo will probably go up all over Cracker Barrels in the vicinity. Why, you ask? I refuse to deal with rude people.

After the darling Czech Pecker was given the OKAY by his surgeon on Friday to start back on solid food, he had a craving for Cracker Barrel. I asked if he was craving clogged arteries, too, but that's another story altogether. So, off we go, the entire Funny Farm, sans the furry inmates, but including the father-in-law. We walked in. It was a somewhat busy Friday evening, but I have certainly seen much worse. The hostess started to seat us at a table right at the entrance. Apparently, some other family had just been seated next to us, in the same area covered by a certain waitress.

It was that waitress who got on The Witch's bad side

Just as the nice hostess was seating us, the waitress turned on the hostess and very rudely said, "You are just going to have to wait to seat them!" The tone was rude, and I thought it was very uncalled for, for her to speak that way to the hostess in front of people. I turned my eyes over to her, gave a good "You did NOT just do that???" look, and I quietly but firmly told the darling Czech Pecker, "I will NOT stay here and deal with somebody so rude." And I walked away. I really didn't care if the family followed or not. I figured if they thought the woman's behavior was okay, they could stay and eat while I sat out front. As it turns out, the darling Czech Pecker followed me. I told him that, while I can certainly appreciate the feeling of being overwhelmed with work, it is not an excuse to treat somebody else in that manner. He decided that we would go to another Cracker Barrel a few miles down the road. And I asked him to apologize to the hostess. It was not her fault.

He did end up with his Cracker Barrel. At the next one, as we were walking in, some bluegrass music was playing. My Boy starting doing this...dance...that I cannot even explain. I need to record it and put it out on YouTube. It was so funny that I had tears in my eyes, and I really thought that I was going to hurt my ribs from laughing.

So, now you all know...if you see The Witch's photo in your local Cracker Barrel, let it be known that I don't take rudeness or moron behavior lightly!

The Witch is Falling Apart!

What the &%$@# happened to me when I hit 40?! The carpal tunnel has returned to my left hand with a vengeance...this is not fun.

However, on a good note, the darling Czech Pecker is improving a bit each day! He certainly looks a lot better than he did a month ago.

Unbelievably, it's time for school to start back for the male and female spawn! Tomorrow evening is open house at The Boy's school. I wonder how many people I'll manage to piss off this year?! Honestly, I do not actively set out to irritate anyone. It just sort of happens...

The Witch is Ready for the Funny Farm!

Okay, it is very possible to argue that I already live at the Funny Farm. Indeed, I am the CEO!

The darling Czech Pecker ended up back in the hospital last week...after a whole 2 days home...and he ended up needing surgery again last Saturday. He is most likely going to be in the hospital for another week to two weeks. NOT FUN...for any of us, but least of all for him. We are thinking of setting up a nice little vacation home at St. Francis. It could work, you know.

As for myself, the Appalachian Witch must go for a sleep study (dramatic musical interlude). It seems that I may have sleep apnea. Oh joy. I understand that they put all of this junk in your hair in order to attach electrodes to the scalp. The whole idea is to measure brain waves during sleep. I have news for them...I'm not entirely certain there is anything to measure! I'm thinking of shaving my head to avoid the need to wash my hair 100 times to get all of the junk out after the study...

The Witch is a Mother to a Teen-Ager!

Well, holy flying crap monkeys! When did THAT happen?! In all of the "excitement" around here with the darling Czech Pecker in the hospital and all, I completely forgot to write about the fact that my oldest spawn, Rebekah, turned 13 last Friday! Please note: I did not forget her birthday, and we did celebrate it...I just forgot to write about it.

Poor kid. We were supposed to go out of town to celebrate, but Plan A had to be discarded when her dad went into the hospital. Now, there is a way to celebrate one's thirteenth birthday..."Oh, I was at the hospital."

The rest of the family took her out to eat for lunch, and then she wanted to go see Eclipse. For her, it was the third time she's been to see it since it came out...the week before...

Wow. It seems like yesterday that the darling Czech Pecker and I went to the hospital, listening to the song "Hell" by Squirrel Nut Zipper. No, really...we did have that song playing! Then, a couple of days later, we brought her home...a little fluffy baby girl with a BIG mouth. Now, she's a little fluffy teen girl with a BIG mouth!

The Boy will be 11 in October. Help us. Please.

An Appalachian Witch Needs Her City Boy Warlock

Or in other words, the darling Czech Pecker has been suffering from flare-ups of Crohn's Disease, and it's taking him away from me for periods of time when he is either hospitalized or even when he's home but in bed sick. In bed...not bad in itself...but in bed sick is most definitely not a good thing!

It's one of those things where I cannot help but ask why the darling Czech Pecker, of all people, has to suffer from such a nasty disease. I mean, he's one of the good ones. To be honest, I think he's a much better person than I am. I'm a temperamental witch, after all!

The technical answer is that this is a genetic disease, much more common in people of Jewish ancestry than in non-Jewish. Hmmmm, the darling Czech Pecker may be a Roman Catholic, but I have a strong feeling that his ancestors hanging out in Eastern Europe may have been Jewish and decided that it was better to "lose [their] skullcap than [their] skull." (Okay, Mel Brooks...now I'm going to be singing "The Inquisition" all night!) Hmmmm....Should I start keeping a kosher household for my Czech?

With our family being...well, us,...we've found our amusing moments. For example...THE FLARP. What is Flarp, you may ask? Good question. Flarp comes in a little plastic container, and it has the consistency of play-doh. There is one BIG difference between the two, however. Flarp makes noise when you play with it and smash it back into the container. You can imagine, with a name like Flarp what that noise is. And it is loud. During the darling Czech Pecker's first hospitalization back in April, Thing 1 and Thing 2 carried containers of Flarp to the hospital to visit their dear dad. Let's just say that if anyone, nursing staff or otherwise, happened to be passing by the room during this time, they were probably feeling for the poor man in that room, and they were probably swearing NOT to enter the room, especially with a lighter in hand.

My children do make me laugh, when they aren't sending me screaming for the nearest psych ward.

In the meantime, this is one Appalachian Witch who would gladly take her big city man's place if she could.

The Witch is STILL Freakin' Anemic!

What is up, or maybe I should say down, with my stupid iron levels? An anemic witch is not a happy witch. And an unhappy witch leads to a chaotic Funny Farm...mainly because I have about a negative ten energy level by the end of the day to deal with housework and all of that mundane stuff. It's not a pretty sight, let me tell you.

Entering into the chaos of an iron deficient matriarch, last weekend swamped us with a lovely ice storm. By Monday morning, most of the bad weather was taking its leave of us. The kids had a 2-hour delay starting school, but I was thinking "Hey, we made it through this little storm unscathed...kept the power on, etc." Oh, but I thought too early. Let's just say that the darling Czech Pecker now has a new nickname, courtesy my good friend Sharon Conlon after she heard the following tale. First, the darling CP ran out of gas in his Explorer while he was warming it up. He took my truck to get gas for his vehicle and parked my truck at the bottom of the driveway when he returned. Forgetting he had parked it there, he backed his Explorer out, and WHAM! Yep. Right into my truck. Thus, his new nickname is now Crash. Thank you, Sharon! I do love calling him that now!

Later on Monday, a younger, female Crash took a slide on an icy patch on the road behind our house and crashed into our fence and that of our next door neighbor. She took out a section of each fence. Fortunately, nobody was hurt, and our dogs did not escape! I have laughed and said that it was as if there was a cosmic "Crash Here!" sign over our house that day.

In non-winter, non-crash, non-anemic news, I am working on collecting recipes and putting together a cookbook for a fundraiser for Catholic Charities. Who else sees the irony that I, Queen of Culinary Disasters and Kitchen Destruction, am working on putting together a cookbook?

The Witch Has Been Spayed

Yep. That's how the female spawn puts it. It was finally decided that there was no reason to keep my female internal organs, seeing as how they were rather defective, and hey! They had already done their job, right? Tomorrow will mark one week since I went under the knife, so I am spending Christmas with the family waiting on me hand and foot. Overall, that's really not a bad way to spend the holidays, when you really think about it. Feet up, stack of good books, and people doing what I say...it's good to be the queen!

And now for something completely different. Rebekah is officially half-way through middle school now. Yes, this concept does freak me out a bit. What freaks me out even more is the knowledge that she will be eligible for her driver's permit in 2 1/2 years. That should freak out anyone on the road.

J.P. is in need of a haircut. He is currently going for the Cousin Itt look, and I'm not sure it's a complimentary look.

And the Czech Pecker is...well, the Czech Pecker. I think he needs to drink some vodka. He might feel better! Poor guy needs to be an Anglo-Cherokee like I am, but since I can't genetically re-do him...

The Witch is Feeling a Little Less...Witchy

Okay, true to my sad blog form here, I'm blogging again after a hiatus of a few years or months or something. You see, people seem to think that I should be doing other things when I come home in the evenings, like acting as their chauffeur/maid/lifetime indentured servant/slave. Let me tell you, it doesn't leave a heck of a lot of time for me to write/paint/breathe.

The upside is that the dogs and cats still love me, whether I collapse on my sofa like a curly-haired slug at the end of the day with glass of Tempranillo in one hand and Douglas Adams in the other -- I'm telling you, the older I get, the more convinced I am that Deep Thought was really onto something with the whole Answer to the Meaning of Life, the Universe, and Everything equals 42 thing -- or whether I decide to recite Chaucer in Middle English -- just for the whole amusement of it, mind you -- while standing on top of one of the dog houses with the Huskies. Yes, the verdict IS still out whether I am suffering from brain damage due to falling off the bed when I was a baby or whether it's simply the eccentricities of inbreeding that lead to my weirdness.

And You Guys Thought the Witch Had Disappeared!

I'm baaaaaaccccckkkkkk!

A bout with iron-deficiency anemia has left this particular mountain witch feeling drained and looking like a reject from Interview with a Vampire. Let me tell you, the pale skin I inherited from my English ancestors has ever been the bane of my existence to begin with--why, oh why, couldn't I have been born with the pretty bronze color of my Cherokee heritage?--but add the sallow complexion that comes with anemia...IT AIN'T PRETTY! However, iron supplements have helped, even though they taste like I'm gnawing on nails.

And now, I want to give a big SHOUT OUT to my fellow Heffas! Annette, stop working so hard and go get a mani/pedi! Sunny, love ya, woman, and if the kids get to you, I have your back! Kathi, the reptile woman, I think you ought to write a book, a soap opera of Freya and Oden's love story! Amy, one of the strongest women I know, you and your husband and all military families are in my thoughts and prayers every day. Soli, I hope you get that teaching job on the rez...you are the perfect one for it! Amber, I love what you do for the kids in your district. You rock! Megan, you are my favorite tech geek of all time...I know exactly whom to ask if I ever need computer help. Monica, you are THE Americorps chick of the year! Jess, Photographer of The Weave, Protectress of Children, you rock, too! Cassie, I'm so glad you are a Heffa...you've come a long way the past year...love ya! Amanda, you crazy doctor's wife...go get some Chinese take-out, will ya? And give that adorable baby a hug! Tina, I am so glad you lost your filter...you crack me up, girl! Stephanie and "MissWeezer"...you guys aren't around as much, but I love it when you are...you both rock, too!

Okay, it's fabulous to have a group of girlfriends that a mountain witch can turn to, especially when one's offspring are acting like buttmunches, as mine have been the last several days. Oh yes, those ADORABLE offspring of the darling Czech Pecker. That's right...they're his kids right now. I think I'll let him have them for a while, and I'll float around the house in ignorant bliss. Kids? What kids? Do I have kids? No way!

Speaking of the little Czech monsters, I looked at the calendar today, and it hit me...it's the end of the school year already! Holy flying crapmonkeys! Where has the time gone? J.P.'s school sent a notice out that they are going to start a school band next school year for grades 3rd and up. Naturally, he is all over that. Not only does he want to continue playing drums for the Fife and Drum Corps, playing his electric guitar that he got for Christmas, now he wants to play the trumpet. Oh dear patron saint of mothers who suffer from headaches due to children who play music turned up to 11, please pray for me. I do believe that I will be keeping the pharmaceutical industry in business, most notably the company that produces Relpax, my migraine meds.

On that note, there is a cheesecake in the kitchen calling my name. I have been trying to resist it because I know that cheesecake, like most things that taste good, likes to stick to my butt, and yet, its siren call is luring me ever nearer to the refrigerator...

Is There Anything Worse Than Love Songs?

Yes. Yes, there is. Try COUNTRY LOVE SONGS. I am shuddering in fear and loathing even as I type those dreaded words, but yes, my dear friends, such a CD collection actually exists. I know. I keep looking out for the four horses of the Apocalypse ever since I saw it in Target a few days ago, where I was looking for some little flying helicopter thingies in the toy section with the darling Czech Pecker and my male spawn of Satan. I happened to stroll past the music section and saw this frightening music collection sitting there, bold as you please, on an end rack. I nearly fainted dead away in horror, and let me tell you, I am generally not of a delicate constitution, but my heart nearly gave out.

After I got over my initial terror, I have to admit that I started to giggle and snort to myself, and I had to pick up a copy and show it to the darling Czech Pecker (by this time, I was chortling at the absolute hilarity of it).

One thing you have to understand about the darling Czech Pecker and me...we are most definitely NOT the romantic types. No way, no how. Syrupy love songs make both of us alternately barf and laugh at the ridiculously unrealistic lyrics. We both giggled our way through our wedding...if there were any tears in either of our eyes, it was due to laughter. And I may be a woman--yeah, I swear it, I checked--but I really think Chick Flicks and Chick Lit are inane. Give me a good comedy--NOT a romantic comedy, please--or a good Sci Fi film. Give me REAL literature, preferably British, although I sometimes love some good Southern Gothic a la Flannery O' Connor or William Faulkner.

Needless to say, "Stand By Your Man" kind of stuff just doesn't figure into our way of communicating.

I do regret showing the collection to the darling Czech Pecker right there, though. It would have been quite amusing to have bought it and wrapped it up for Valentine's Day for a gag gift!

Does Anybody Have a Holy Hand Grenade of Antioch?

I really need one, you see. Not to repel a Killer Rabbit with long, pointy teeth. Billy Bob, our resident rabbit, is quite a benign bunny, and as far as I'm aware, he hasn't killed anyone recently, including any Knights of the Round Table.

No, I need a Holy Hand Grenade of Antioch for my house. This place is hopeless. I clean one thing. Three things get messed up. I fold one load of laundry. The dogs muddy up an entire room. I mop that room. The kids decide to "rearrange" a few things. I try to set things back in order. The kitchen becomes messed up. I clean the kitchen. The kitty litter box needs to be cleaned. I clean the litter box. The dogs start howling for attention. Let's not EVEN start discussing the state of our "landscaping" due to those crazy half-wolves! I'll forgive them, though. It's the humans of the Funny Farm who need a Come to Jesus talk!

I've given a deadline. Certain things will be cleaned up, certain items will be put away in places where we won't risk life and limb every time we walk through the living room and kitchen by tripping over them, or they will disappear from this house, never to be heard from again.

The Appalachian Witch has spoken.

The Witch Is On Her Way to Recovery

I saw the chiropractor yesterday. While I can tell a difference--I'm not in excruciating pain today like I was earlier this week--these things take a little time, especially when one reaches a certain age. I return tomorrow to the chiropractor. Hopefully, I will be pain-free, or nearly so, in the near future. It will certainly make for a happier Appalachian Witch. I believe the Czech Pecker is referring to me as something that rhymes with witch right now. Note that I do not call him "the darling Czech Pecker" this evening. That's because I have one nerve left, and he's getting on it.

For this evening, I believe I will continue my evening routine of heating pads and better living through chemistry, i.e. muscle relaxers. It's worked so far each night this week!

The Witch Needs a Chiropractor!

For at least two months, I've had a pinched nerve or something along the upper part of my spine, and it's been irritating the bejeezus out of me. Of course, I have been doing the natural thing for me...I've ignored it, believing that it will work itself out. However, after several sleepless nights, and a periodic numbness running up and down my left arm, it has come to my attention that I can no longer ignore it. Yeah, sometimes I have to be slapped upside the head with a clue-by-four. Sooooooo, I guess I will be off to see Mister Chiropractor soon! Yippeee!

The sleepless nights...yuck...that's the worst. Now, I am hardly a beauty when I am in top form, but you throw in lack of sleep, complete with the dark circles under the eyes, and I'm ready to scare the gargoyles of Notre Dame Cathedral. Seriously. Today, I think I even made the Bride of Frankenstein look like Miss America in comparison. I may even have caused a crack or two in the mirrors I glanced in as I crept through the day.

And a tired Appalachian Witch is a grouchy, irritable Appalachian Witch. My evil eye has been getting a workout, and I have given my Turkish evil eye amulet to the darling Czech Pecker to protect him from my curses. So far, he is safe, but I can't say the same thing for the Shih Tzu, but hey...does the canine moron REALLY have to sit practically on top of me while he licks his butt?!

I'm looking on the bright side, though. I'm keeping the pharmaceutical industry afloat with the ibuprofen I've been taking, and that's a positive thought, right?

Happy New Year!

Yes, the Witch is still lurking around these parts. She hasn't quite melted...I feel happy!

The truth is, I was given the fantastic opportunity to return to the workforce in late October, and I am now actually making myself useful at Catholic Charities. It has taken some time to adapt to a work schedule while still chasing after my Spawns of Satan, i.e. the human children, and the Howling Huskies, Neurotic Shih Tzus, Feline Fuzzies, and now, Billy Bob and Roxie. Billy Bob and Roxie are, respectively, a bunny and a guinea pig. And some people wonder exactly WHY I call this place the Funny Farm.

My abridged version of the holidays...we survived! And there was much rejoicing. YAY! And now, the kids return to school tomorrow, and they are moaning piteously about it. Do I feel sorry for them? Not one bit. My shriveled little black heart is snickering. So much for me being a loving, nurturing mother who sympathizes with her children's woes and travails. I didn't receive the Mother of the Year Award for 2008, and so far, 2009 is not looking all that auspicious, either!

Speaking of parenthood, I will return with The Witch's Parenting Tips soon!

A Month of Madness

Looking at the date of my last blog entry, I realize that it has been nearly a month since The Appalachian Witch last made an appearance. I would like to pretend it is because I've been relaxing in a nice spa somewhere or that I've been involved in deep meditation at a remote monastery, listening to the harmonious Gregorian chant of the resident monks, and now I'm back with a refreshed spirit, ready to face the challenges of everyday life with a calm but energetic demeanor.

The truth is, however, I'm barely keeping the men in the White Jackets at bay.

Okay, it's really not that bad. I've had some truly LAZY moments in between running around like a mad woman. Moscato and books have been my good friends. What types of books? They vary between mindless entertainment and historical research. Vampires...the Black Death...werewolves...medical history...the subjects don't necessarily go together, although now that I think about it, it MIGHT be rather entertaining.

Parenting Stuff from the Witch and the Czech Pecker: The only thing to add this evening is that they get WAAAAAAAY too excited when Granddaddy is coming to visit. He will be here tomorrow afternoon for several events happening this week--Grandparents' Day at St. Joseph's on Wednesday through J.P.'s birthday on Saturday--and they are bouncing off the walls this evening. I believe the Czech Pecker is about to lose either his Czech or his Pecker. I'm afraid to ask which.

To make up for the human kids' insanity, the Huskies are eerily silent this evening. I worry when they are this quiet. It makes me wonder what they are planning. I fully expect to find a hole to Siberia tomorrow morning to match the one they've already dug in their attempt to dig to Alaska.

We Have Not Seen the Last of That Skeleton

The skeleton that was hiding out in Rebekah's locker? Antoine? Well, he's making himself quite at home around the Lazurek Funny Farm these days. You never know where that bony bozo will pop up. Right now, he is clad in a martial arts outfit, providing inspiration for a short story that Rebekah is writing for her Literature class in school. She is calling it, "The Haunted Karate Bus," and Antoine makes a cameo appearance at the end as the driver of the bus. She finished the rough draft of the story, and the final is due this Friday. I wonder if her teacher will think she is warped?

Parenting Stuff from the Witch and the Czech Pecker: Some things I find myself asking as a mother:

What is a package of googly eyes doing in this corner of the room?
Why is there a Pokemon figure on top of the mailbox?
Speaking of the mailbox, is there any reason WHY it was taken off the post and turned around backwards so that it opened toward the house instead of the road? (I'm sure our mail woman LOVED us for that one)
And whose handprint in purple paint is on the mailbox door?
How did silly string end up on the ceiling? (stupid question, that)
Who do you think you are, Bo and Luke Duke? And my truck is the General Lee?
Why does the dog/cat have blue/pink/green paint on him?
Is there any reason WHY there are several naked Barbies hanging from the tree in the front yard?
Why is there a stool, a drill, a pair of leopard print tights, a roll of paper towels, and a tube of toothpaste on the front walkway?
What made me think that I need to get knocked up to be a "fulfilled" woman, anyway? Was I temporarily insane? (this to the Czech Pecker, not to the spawns of Satan)

On a positive note, it's never boring around here, and the spawns have inherited my artistic abilities. J.P. and I spent the weekend painting together, and Rebekah and I are starting to have some intelligent conversations about history, books, and theology. I still have to ask myself the off-the-wall questions in between these idylls of peacefulness, though. The way I see it, when I'm old and gray, it will give me something to look back on and laugh about. And hey, if these two imps ever have little demons of their own, will I EVER have some stories to tell them about their parents!

My daughter has a skeleton in her closet!

Well, the skeleton is not in her closet. He was in her locker at school for a day. Now, she takes him around with her places. His name is Antoine, and he is her BFF.

Antoine came into Rebekah's life several days ago when she bought him for a skit that she and some other girls did for their History class at school. Evidently, Antoine's role was that of either a Neanderthal or Cro-Magnon who had died from a club wound to the back of the head, and they were archaeologists discovering him. He had been buried with jewelry and flowers. Rebekah informed me that their skit, especially Antoine's role, was a big hit. Incidentally, Rebekah came up with his name from a "Drake & Josh" episode.

After his starring role, Antoine has retired to the Lazurek Funny Farm where he dresses in pajamas at bedtime, and his favorite daytime wear is one of J.P.'s hoodies. A couple of evenings ago, I discovered Antoine on the sofa reading Rebekah's Ignatius Study Bible. The darling Czech Pecker made a comment about the jaw of an ass.

J.P. is now wanting to get a twin for Antoine. Who knows what might happen around here when the twin shows up?

Parenting Tip of the Day from the Witch and the Czech Pecker: When the kids want to drag out the skeletons in the closet, let them have a little fun with them!

Those Crazy Hurricanes

It looks like New Orleans and the Gulf coast didn't get slammed quite as bad as feared by Gustav, and that is a good thing, although a lot of people are returning to the area without power. Still, it could have been so much worse. Now, we're looking at our own coastline here in the Carolinas at Hanna. We're all laughing here because my niece's name is Hannah, and she is QUITE the character! It is appropriate that a tropical storm/hurricane is named after her.

And speaking of hurricanes in Charleston, it takes me back to good ol' Hugo back in 1989. That is when the darling Czech Pecker and I started our love story. *snort* I can't say that with a straight face. We were students at the College of Charleston and got kicked out of the dorms when they saw this big-ass hurricane heading straight for us. About a week after the hurricane, we returned to campus to resume the semester, complete with a curfew starting at dusk--we could go to the library, but anything else out in the city was taboo, and quite frankly, with all those National Guard guys with their big guns trained on anything that moved, I was more than willing to stay put.

So, there we were, my friend and roommate at the time, Annette, walking across campus, trying not to trip over fallen tree limbs laden with Spanish moss, and I was musing on the idea that it might be good thing to become a nun. About that time, we saw somebody we knew across the street heading to his dorm room--the darling Czech Pecker! Except I didn't call him that back then. We weren't even dating yet. I immediately dropped the idea of becoming a nun, and we called out. We walked with him to his room, where he tried in vain to open his door that had become stuck due to humidity swelling the wood. It took him a good 15 minutes or more of shoving, and I stood there not helping at all, snorting with laughter.

It is now 19 years later, we've been married over 17 years of that, and not much has changed in some respects. I still have some moments when I think becoming a nun might have been a good idea, after all, but then I realize I wasn't really cut out for it. And I still stand back and laugh when he tries to do things in vain instead of being useful. I'm really good at that.

Parenting Tip of the Day from the Witch and the Czech Pecker: There comes a time in the parenthood of every mom and dad when those little darling spawns of Satan drive you crazier than a shit house rat. Don't deny it. You know it's true. And if you're really honest with yourself, you will admit that you might have thought about selling those precious treasures to the first band of traveling gypsies that come through your neighborhood. Since we rarely see such bands in the United States in this day and age, it can provide a dilemma for the exasperated parent.

I have thought of trying to find somebody who might be willing to barter with me. I am especially interested in trading for Siberian Huskies. Oh sure, they can be like children, too, and certainly get into their share of mischief. You should see my back yard presently due to the antics of my pack. It looks like a war zone. However, my Huskies never complain, they appreciate everything that I give them, and I don't have to pay tuition for them.

Any takers?

Gustav, Hanna, tropical weather, oh my!

I'm sitting here right now, as I'm sure much of the country is, watching the weather reports to see exactly where Hurricane Gustav is going to land tomorrow. New Orleans is evacuating as I write this, obviously loathe to repeat the tragedy of Katrina three years ago, and I am saying my prayers for the people on the Gulf coast, including sending up extra prayers for my friends, the Graebers, who live in Baton Rouge.

And out there in Atlantic, another tropical storm, Hanna, is churning away, and right now, they say it's possible that some of the winds from Gustav could come back and add strength to it. It's projected path, as of right now, is anywhere from the Florida east coast on up to Georgia or the Carolinas.

And there are people who say that global warming is not a problem?

In other news, closer to home, we're starting to settle into a routine with school. Well, as much of a routine as it's possible for us, the Lazurek Funny Farm, epitome of Unconventional Behavior, who put the "fun" in dysfunctional! J.P. jumped right into 3rd grade with no problem and has a new best buddy who is new to the school this year. The two of them are inseparable. Rebekah had to adjust to the changing of classes and the bell schedule in middle school, but that took all of about two days. I'm seeing a marked change in her when I pick her up in the afternoons. She talks about what is happening in school, what this teacher said and that teacher did that day, and the biggest miracle of all...she doesn't resist doing her homework quite as vigorously as she did last year! So far, she is showing an increased excitement about learning, and to a Super Nerd like me, that is the best thing I could hope for! She's also making new friends, and that is also something that I had been hoping that she would do right away.

Parenting Tip of the Day from the Witch and the Czech Pecker: We've talked about the many areas where the boundaries are fluid with us; however, there ARE some areas where we remain firm, and the boundaries we set are akin to a brick wall.

An example would be clothing. My commandment, regarding how my female spawn of Satan dresses, is, "Thou Shalt Not Dress Like a Hoochie Mama." Seriously. Some of the styles that are out there for girls her age are unbelievable. Now, I would certainly never want her to dress like a member of that Texas polygamy sect, either. That's just messed up. However, I once went to the mall and saw a couple of girls who couldn't have been older than 13 or 14 who had on more revealing clothing than the prostitutes that I saw on Bourbon Street the previous week. I sat there in the food court with my kids and thought to myself, "those mothers need to be slapped for letting them out of the house like that." Of course, it's always possible that the kids somehow snuck around the parental units in some way. Kids can be sneaky little jerks. Somebody had to drive them to the mall in the first place, though.

Another example is cutting school. Like most kids, there are times when they, "just don't FEEEEEEEL like going." Maybe they stayed up too late the previous evening watching something on television. Or they're feeling nervous about a test. Or they're just being plain lazy. Um, no. They are allowed so many absences per year, and they need those in case something comes up, such as...oh, I don't know...they really get sick and have to miss several days, maybe? Sorry. Laziness doesn't count as an illness. Goofing off doesn't count as an excused absence. Sorry, little spawns of Satan. Your mama is tough on this one.

There are other areas, but I threw in those examples to show that, while we are quite unconventional and seem to allow our kids a lot of freedoms in many areas, we still have our areas where we stand firm and say, "um, no, absolutely, positively no." Hey, we have to give them SOMETHING to hate us over from time to time, don't we?

The Witch Has Returned

And school is in session! And there was much rejoicing. Yay!

When last the Witch left you, we were discussing the lady with the cloned puppies. What a loony. A couple of days later, the spawns of Satan left for Charleston with my mom, grandmother, sister, and niece. They spent a few days with them, then I drove down in my B.A.T. mobile. The kids and I then spent time with the darling Czech Pecker's dad who lives there. We browsed the Market, did a little shopping, and visited the Aquarium. On that Friday, the darling Czech Pecker himself joined us after work for the rest of the weekend.

THEN, it was back home to get ready for school. J.P. started on Monday, and he's already made some new friends. He also said that the priest talked to them about training to become altar boys, something he very much wants to do. I told him he might want to start watching his language. We'll see if it works.

Rebekah started her middle school career on Wednesday at a new school, St. Joseph's. The new routine is a bit overwhelming for her and will take some adjusting, but she is excited about her classes and her teachers. I think she will do well.

Parenting Tip of the Day from the Witch and the Czech: Homework...yes, you have to do it, and not at 10:00 at night. End of story. Yes, I will help and give you guidance. No, I won't do it FOR you. You don't learn a blasted thing that way. Yes, I do expect you to do your best work possible. No, I don't expect straight A's. Don't kill yourself and try to be such a perfectionist that you make yourself ill. Don't be a slackass, either. There IS a happy medium. Trust me. It's all a learning process, and learning can be fun. I'm nearly 40, and I'm still learning and having fun doing so.