See Spot Run.

School sure has changed a lot since I was a wee one.

Yesterday I was asked by Owen's teacher to help her with a project...the kids have 40 sight words that they need to have memorized by the end of the year and thanks to Pinterest, she found something that she thinks will be helpful in making it more fun, which for a kid (well, for anyone really) equals 'more likely to be accomplished'.  Each child held up a large printed word which I took photos of, then she will turn the digital files into a PowerPoint presentation. Seeing their classmates faces with the words is certainly more entertaining than the typical flash card system, no?

Here is my hooligan with two of the words.  He's such a little stinker.  But his teacher is pretty awesome.  I really should have found a less distracting background space, but I was focused on making sure I had a good bounce/light source and with me, one thought tends to take over, sneering back over its shoulder at all the other valid ideas pounding and screaming on the soundproof glass of my mind. And since my hands are all effed up, I wanted to get it done as quickly as possible. /end excuses. C'est la vie.

These hands are on FIAAAAHHHHH...

Ok, that's cheesy, I admit.  Certainly not as catchy as singing about Obama.  But the song IS catchy, which is why it's now in my title.  I am, indeed, living up to my alter ego as Captain Obvious.

But my hands are on fire, not in the good blogging way, or the good vacuuming way or even the good laundry way.  I did get the dishes, done, though.  Le sigh, the fire of my hands is an internal burn, a deep smoldering heat with occasional sparks catching me off guard.   I don't know why, but the short version is I have some problem with my nerves and to be frank it's really pissing me off today.  Sometimes they burn, sometimes I feel ice tingles jumping around, sometimes it's a numbing tingle, sometimes I just feel a sensation long after it should be gone.  And it's not just my hands, but my hands are definitely the worst when it comes to nerve issues.

I'm not on here to whine about it, though, I do enough of that in real life.  I'm only thinking about it b/c of the photo I'm about to post.  I love to read, it was my other life when I was growing up, my true escape, traveling to other lands, other times, meeting other people in other dimensions.  I miss it.  I don't do it much anymore, although not for the obvious reasons of being a mom, needing to cook, clean and transport little people to various places (ok, that sounds wrong...I don't cook little people)...I don't do it b/c it hurts my %$&!! hands and wrists to hold my nook, and my eyes are going south faster than I can keep up with, so it's an exhausting strain to read, leaving me with blurry eyes for hours later.  Even with reading glasses.  I have so many books saved, waiting, but I think about sitting down with a glass of wine and just the nook and all I can conjure up is how exhausted it will make me.  How pathetic is that?

Zachary loves to read.  I love that he loves it--he gets to go where all the magic is, be an adventurer, feel the sorrow and the joy and the fear and the anticipation that a good author will provide.  All he asked for this Christmas was books.  He is just such an awesome kid, and I am so proud of the young man he's becoming.  Although keeping up with his chores would be nice.

Krazy Karmen is his true pal, she snuggles up with him every night.  I put up with her for that alone ♥