Or my dad, Joe Wessels?
As Turtle would say "TWINSIES!"
Monday, February 13, 2012
Monday, January 30, 2012
The Report Card
This is Turtle's first year of kindergarten. Now that I've typed that sentence, I realize how dumb that is. It's not like college where you put in four years. There is ONLY one year of kindergarten. Sigh. Just when I got used to relating about baby stuff and preschool, Turtle goes and grows up and goes to kindergarten. After this will be a whole new set of terms about grade school and homework and why I won't let her date until at least third grade.
Today Turtle brought home her first report card. First of all, I think the fact that they no longer do A-F grades SUCKS ASS. Why did they change it? Why? Why? Now there is a number scale from 1-4. One meaning you aren't even trying and your teacher thinks you're lame and four meaning you have bribed the teacher with Starbucks cards. It just doesn't sound as cool tosay that Turtle scored 4s on a whole bunch of stuff. Ooooh, 4s. They could have at least gone from 1-10 so that the kids who got 10s would be like 'IN YOUR FACE ALL YOU PEOPLE SCORING TWOS!'. But school these days is not about competition. And, at least in kindergarten, it's not about academics either. This is evidenced by Turtle's report card, in which she scored all 3.5s and 4s for Math, Science, Reading etc. etc. but only scored 2.5 for Working with Other's and Work Ethic.
I laughed out loud. Work ethic?? Work ethic!! It's kindergarten. What the fuck kind of work ethic should a five year old have? I suppose the little troopers that scored 4's in work ethic probably also make their beds, eat all their vegetables and are ready to go work the line in China making iphones. Turtle however, doesn't always want to draw a picture of something with the letter U. She doesn't see the point. She can already draw, she already knows what an umbrella looks like and isn't that interested in making sure that her umbrella uses multiple colors and has more detail. Yes, she got a note that said she needs to use colors and more detail. Of course, her kindergarten teacher didn't see the attention to detail that Turtle made on a drawing the other day that she brought home. It was wrapped up tight in her folder so her kindergarten teacher couldn't see it.
'What's this?' I asked as I pulled it out.
'Oh, that's a secret. I couldn't show it to Ms. Kindergarten Teacher.'
'Can I look at it?'
Turtle shrugged as I pulled the paper out. There was a drawing. A VERY detailed drawing. Ms. KT would have been proud of the amount of detail in this drawing. There was a number 1 and a number 2 next to each picture. Picture one was of a person falling off a bridge. Behind the person falling was a little person with a big smile. Picture two was a picture of a mug with an X on it and a person lying next to it, covered in blood.
'Wow, what're these?'
'Oh, those are my plans to kill Ms. KT' Turtle mentioned casually.
'What? You plan to kill her?'
'Yeah' said Turtle 'I was really mad. So I made this secret plan. The first one is me pushing her off a bridge and if that doesn't work, I came up with a backup plan to poison her coffee. See? The X is for poison.'
'Huh. Nice attention to detail.'
'Thanks, Mommy.'
Now I just need to direct her homicidal tendencies to some worthwhile activity like working for the FBI and being a sniper. And maybe send her teacher a copy of the plans so she can change that whole work ethic grade. My baby's got a work ethic alright, it just may not be the kind of work they're looking for at the elementary school.
p.s. don't worry, Turtle and I had serious discussion about killing people and why it's not good. Also, I took an online quiz for 'Is Your Child a Serial Killer' and we only scored 4 out of 10 so I think we're safe. And if she is a serial killer, I totally blame her dad.
Today Turtle brought home her first report card. First of all, I think the fact that they no longer do A-F grades SUCKS ASS. Why did they change it? Why? Why? Now there is a number scale from 1-4. One meaning you aren't even trying and your teacher thinks you're lame and four meaning you have bribed the teacher with Starbucks cards. It just doesn't sound as cool tosay that Turtle scored 4s on a whole bunch of stuff. Ooooh, 4s. They could have at least gone from 1-10 so that the kids who got 10s would be like 'IN YOUR FACE ALL YOU PEOPLE SCORING TWOS!'. But school these days is not about competition. And, at least in kindergarten, it's not about academics either. This is evidenced by Turtle's report card, in which she scored all 3.5s and 4s for Math, Science, Reading etc. etc. but only scored 2.5 for Working with Other's and Work Ethic.
I laughed out loud. Work ethic?? Work ethic!! It's kindergarten. What the fuck kind of work ethic should a five year old have? I suppose the little troopers that scored 4's in work ethic probably also make their beds, eat all their vegetables and are ready to go work the line in China making iphones. Turtle however, doesn't always want to draw a picture of something with the letter U. She doesn't see the point. She can already draw, she already knows what an umbrella looks like and isn't that interested in making sure that her umbrella uses multiple colors and has more detail. Yes, she got a note that said she needs to use colors and more detail. Of course, her kindergarten teacher didn't see the attention to detail that Turtle made on a drawing the other day that she brought home. It was wrapped up tight in her folder so her kindergarten teacher couldn't see it.
'What's this?' I asked as I pulled it out.
'Oh, that's a secret. I couldn't show it to Ms. Kindergarten Teacher.'
'Can I look at it?'
Turtle shrugged as I pulled the paper out. There was a drawing. A VERY detailed drawing. Ms. KT would have been proud of the amount of detail in this drawing. There was a number 1 and a number 2 next to each picture. Picture one was of a person falling off a bridge. Behind the person falling was a little person with a big smile. Picture two was a picture of a mug with an X on it and a person lying next to it, covered in blood.
'Wow, what're these?'
'Oh, those are my plans to kill Ms. KT' Turtle mentioned casually.
'What? You plan to kill her?'
'Yeah' said Turtle 'I was really mad. So I made this secret plan. The first one is me pushing her off a bridge and if that doesn't work, I came up with a backup plan to poison her coffee. See? The X is for poison.'
'Huh. Nice attention to detail.'
'Thanks, Mommy.'
Now I just need to direct her homicidal tendencies to some worthwhile activity like working for the FBI and being a sniper. And maybe send her teacher a copy of the plans so she can change that whole work ethic grade. My baby's got a work ethic alright, it just may not be the kind of work they're looking for at the elementary school.
 |
| I will cut you. |
p.s. don't worry, Turtle and I had serious discussion about killing people and why it's not good. Also, I took an online quiz for 'Is Your Child a Serial Killer' and we only scored 4 out of 10 so I think we're safe. And if she is a serial killer, I totally blame her dad.
Too Old For Rock and Roll
I am changing my background from black and white to something more reader friendly. Because I am old and I have old eyeballs that wobble when I try to read my own blog. Is it weird that I'm reading my own blog? Probably. But I was looking to see if I have reference Turtle and my fears about her becoming a serial killer. 'Cause she got her report card and we need to talk about it. After I get done changing the color on this sucker.
Tuesday, January 3, 2012
New Year's Prediction Ride
I read somewhere that the first ride of the year sets the tone for your year. This better not be true. My first ride of the year was a hot mess with the pony getting stickier and stickier. Then I went out to the barn yesterday and couldn't even get up the nerve to ride. I brushed the pony and went home. Today I was determined to ride and I did. For five minutes we slogged around and before I could even get a decent trot out of her, the princess decided she was done. She stopped moving. I used my legs. Kick. The whip. Kick, buck. Argh! Lucky for me, L was right there. Her partner (also an L, dammit....this whole anonymous trainer thing isn't really working out very well) was riding a GIANT bay horse and yelled across the arena "C'mere and hop on this horse and ride while I put your pony in side reins and teach her some forward to contact."
I blinked at her. "Ride that horse? He's huge." I'm not kidding about the huge. He was at least 16.3 and a massive warmblood. "Uh......"
She laughed. "He's huge but he goes forward. He's totally safe. We put beginners on him."
Okay. I may be a chicken, but I'm not a beginner and I'm not going to let a giant, beginner's horse intimidate me. So I handed her the cranky pony and got on the massive bay. I asked him to trot. Oh, hey core muscles, you might want to help out here. He had a lofty trot that made posting athletic but somehow easier. We flew around the arena. I got to ride in the corner next to the goat's pen where Tessa doesn't go. We did twenty meter circles with ease. Linda was having a discussion with the Princess that involved some head tossing and some crankiness, but every time I flew by them the pony seemed to be going forward.
"Canter him." Linda said as I flew by. "But from the walk. He's forward and it'll be a bigger canter but he's easy."
I took a deep breath. I fidgeted my way down the long side, building my courage. In the corner I sat deep, moved my outside leg back and pressed. The big bay leapt into a ground covering canter. We took the long side in four strides.
"Balance him." Linda yelled, while snapping the lunge whip at the Princess.
I sat deeper in the saddle, took some contact and thought about lifting his back up underneath me. It worked. It worked! We were balanced and cantering and forward and Oh!Oh! I'm not nearly as bad a rider as I think! I sat down and thought walk and he came right back underneath me, swinging his back and stepping softly underneath me.
"Okay, now come get back on your pony." She still had Tess attached to the lunge line. I climbed back aboard (no mounting block needed for the pony) and asked for forward. Immediately, Tess pinned her ears and swished her tail. I tapped her with the whip and she kicked out, threatening to buck.
"I'm going to make her go forward, so be ready for her to really go forward." Linda lifted the lunge whip and smartly tapped Tessa's side. I grabbed a handful of mane and we were off. Wow! A forward trot. A very speedy forward trot! I could work with this trot. We could get contact.
'Now ask for canter." Linda still had the lunge whip in one hand and the lunge line in the other. I sat down and cued for canter. Tess pinned her ears, swished her tail and bucked. Linda tapped her with the lunge whip and Tess took off at a frantic canter. In response I raised my hands and felt my hands, arms and shoulders turn to iron bars.
"Relax your hands." Linda admonished, "She can't go forward if you're pulling her back with all that tension. Just sit down, relax everything and keep the contact steady. Let her go forward INTO the contact."
Sure enough, two strides later we had a lovely, forward relaxed canter. It was time to unclip the lunge line.
At this point, I'd love to end my story with "And everything was wonderful and we all lived happily ever after." but that's not what happened. My pony is a smart pony and as soon as Linda was out of range, she decided that she didn't need to go forward. She stopped dead and kicked out. So, Linda came after her with a lunge whip, which meant me grabbing more rein and trying not to give her conflicting cues.
Linda pointed out that I need to start on the ground with being in charge. That her kicking out and bucking at my leg and my whip are things that start when she pins her ears on the ground and swishes her tail when I brush her. I just can't seem to find the spot where I'm a benevolent dictator. So, I'm just going to make sure to take this project one day at a time. And maybe I'll count the brief forward moments of our ride on the lunge line today as my New Year's Prediction Ride. I predict, one way or another, I will find the gas pedal on this pony and I will find my way around being her leader.
I blinked at her. "Ride that horse? He's huge." I'm not kidding about the huge. He was at least 16.3 and a massive warmblood. "Uh......"
She laughed. "He's huge but he goes forward. He's totally safe. We put beginners on him."
Okay. I may be a chicken, but I'm not a beginner and I'm not going to let a giant, beginner's horse intimidate me. So I handed her the cranky pony and got on the massive bay. I asked him to trot. Oh, hey core muscles, you might want to help out here. He had a lofty trot that made posting athletic but somehow easier. We flew around the arena. I got to ride in the corner next to the goat's pen where Tessa doesn't go. We did twenty meter circles with ease. Linda was having a discussion with the Princess that involved some head tossing and some crankiness, but every time I flew by them the pony seemed to be going forward.
"Canter him." Linda said as I flew by. "But from the walk. He's forward and it'll be a bigger canter but he's easy."
I took a deep breath. I fidgeted my way down the long side, building my courage. In the corner I sat deep, moved my outside leg back and pressed. The big bay leapt into a ground covering canter. We took the long side in four strides.
"Balance him." Linda yelled, while snapping the lunge whip at the Princess.
I sat deeper in the saddle, took some contact and thought about lifting his back up underneath me. It worked. It worked! We were balanced and cantering and forward and Oh!Oh! I'm not nearly as bad a rider as I think! I sat down and thought walk and he came right back underneath me, swinging his back and stepping softly underneath me.
"Okay, now come get back on your pony." She still had Tess attached to the lunge line. I climbed back aboard (no mounting block needed for the pony) and asked for forward. Immediately, Tess pinned her ears and swished her tail. I tapped her with the whip and she kicked out, threatening to buck.
"I'm going to make her go forward, so be ready for her to really go forward." Linda lifted the lunge whip and smartly tapped Tessa's side. I grabbed a handful of mane and we were off. Wow! A forward trot. A very speedy forward trot! I could work with this trot. We could get contact.
'Now ask for canter." Linda still had the lunge whip in one hand and the lunge line in the other. I sat down and cued for canter. Tess pinned her ears, swished her tail and bucked. Linda tapped her with the lunge whip and Tess took off at a frantic canter. In response I raised my hands and felt my hands, arms and shoulders turn to iron bars.
"Relax your hands." Linda admonished, "She can't go forward if you're pulling her back with all that tension. Just sit down, relax everything and keep the contact steady. Let her go forward INTO the contact."
Sure enough, two strides later we had a lovely, forward relaxed canter. It was time to unclip the lunge line.
At this point, I'd love to end my story with "And everything was wonderful and we all lived happily ever after." but that's not what happened. My pony is a smart pony and as soon as Linda was out of range, she decided that she didn't need to go forward. She stopped dead and kicked out. So, Linda came after her with a lunge whip, which meant me grabbing more rein and trying not to give her conflicting cues.
Linda pointed out that I need to start on the ground with being in charge. That her kicking out and bucking at my leg and my whip are things that start when she pins her ears on the ground and swishes her tail when I brush her. I just can't seem to find the spot where I'm a benevolent dictator. So, I'm just going to make sure to take this project one day at a time. And maybe I'll count the brief forward moments of our ride on the lunge line today as my New Year's Prediction Ride. I predict, one way or another, I will find the gas pedal on this pony and I will find my way around being her leader.
Monday, January 2, 2012
2011 in Random Pictures
At some point in 2011, I cleaned off the pictures from my computer and put them somewhere for safe keeping. Yeah, I lost them. So I managed to steal some from my Facebook. But I had an awesome idea for my pictures. I take REALLY bad pictures of myself and of Turtle and I was going to post a year in review of awful pictures. Damn! If I find the pictures again I will do that. Because bad pictures make me laugh.
January 2011 - the very first day. At a cabin on Orcas Island with friends.
February 2011 - Wig Party because I'm contemplating changing my hair color.
March 2011 - I get my two front teeth knocked out by a horse. Dave provides an ice cream buffet.
April 2011 - We visit more ponies and find a place called Sweet Mona's that sells chocolates.
May 2011 - We buy a horse and Turtle turns 5.
June 2011- Wedding! Aren't the bride and groom gorgeous?! 
July 2011 - Fireworks from the boat!
August 2011- Another wedding, with a photobooth and fun hats!
Sept 2011- Turtle starts kindergarten and I find these photos she's taken on the camera. I have no words for this photo.
October 2011- I celebrate turning 40 with a barn dance party. I also have brown hair by now, in case you didn't notice. Yeah for brunette!
November 2011- I push Charlotte down the stairs in a cardboard box. The box does not hold up and the camera can't capture the awesome look on her face as she catapults down the stairs.
Happy New Year to everyone. I'm really excied about 2012!!
Sunday, December 18, 2011
Forty is NOT the New Twenty
And pink is NOT the new black. Now that I'm forty, I'm bombarded with messages about how to fend off ageing. The forty year olds I know that are trying to compete with twenty year olds spend a LOT of time working on it. Sure, I can spend three hours a day at the gym, six hours a month at the hair salon, an hour a week getting my nails done, my toenails done, my skin waxed and exfoliated and lasered, my eyebrows plucked and shaped, my eyelash extensions glued on.....seriously, the list is long and quite frankly, exhausting.
I'm blessed with good genes. I can hardly remember to wash my face every day and I've never had a facial or a body scrub. Though I did go to a spa once with my mom where they did some sort of herbal detox thing that involved being wrapped in wet sheets that smelled like herbal tea and then covered with a thermal blanket. I didn't notice my skin looking better, but I did smell like a cup of tea. Beyond that, I just don't put much effort into competing with the twenty year olds. They're twenty. Your life is so confused and worrisome and everyone gives a shit what everyone else thinks when you're twenty, that the least I can do is give them the edge on me with their twenty year old skin and their cute butts in skinny jeans. Besides, what exactly are we supposed to be competing for? Men? Jobs? Cool Points? Honestly, I don't know what the point is.... What I know is that the person I want to be the person I am doesn't want to be twenty again.
The things that lasers and injections and scrubs would take awayare a part of having lived a life. That wrinkle between my eyes? Yeah, that's where I worried for friends in hard times. That's where I concentrated on learning a new skill. That wrinkle was formed from conquering fears, solving problems. Those lines around my eyes? Those come from smiling. Same with the deep groove next to my mouth. Smiling. WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU WANT TO LOOK LIKE YOU'VE NEVER SMILED????? These wrinkles will get deeper as I get older. It's proof of nights spent laughing with friends. Sometimes, the shadows under my eyes are proof of nights spent crying, friends lost, sick children, hear break. Wrinkles, spots, less than perfection is all proof that I have more going on than a quest for perfection. I'm not saying I don't put on some makeup and actually blow dry my hair every once in a while, cause I do. But I'd rather spend my time living my life, sailing, riding horses, enjoying friends and my family than take that time to try and get back to an age that wasn't nearly as enjoyable as it looks in the pictures.
Also, if I ever get THAT vain, that's why they invented Photoshop. Just hang out at home and post Photoshopped pictures on Facebook and nobody will ever know right? That's my back up plan. p.s. These photos are not photoshopped, mainly because I don't actually have Photoshop and I don't know how to use it....yet.
Thursday, December 1, 2011
The Most Wonderful Time of the Year
I love Christmas music. There. I said it. I love Christmas music. Okay, there are a few songs I don't love but those are always the one written recently. There's a horrible, horrible song called something like Living in Seattle's Latte Land. Ugh. There's another painful one called Christmas in the Northwest. But mostly, I love Christmas music. Without irony. Without being hip and vintage. I love Christmas music.
I Know that I should have some sort of epic story about Christmas music or a hilarious vignette to share with you about it, but I don't. I just wanted to wave the flag of Christmas music. I'm standing up and letting the world know "My name is Mona Sterling and I love Christmas music!". Next thing you know I'll be wearing one of these sweaters.....but without the cool factor.
I'm okay with that. Really, I am. And it's okay if you sing your favorite Christmas song to me. I can spend all day humming Little Drummer Boy and not be angry about it. Because...one last time....I love Christmas music.
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