Very Bad Things

happen when children are allowed to play with Photoshop all by themselves. I thought my maverick approach to homeschooling would serve them well as they explored their creative inclinations with a little digital art. And a perfectly good photo of their mother:

Yes this is in fact me and not an alien duplicate of Fidel Castro.

Isn’t it just hilarious? Aren’t my children endearingly inspired? I’m so moved by their originality and creative talent that I want to take them into my arms and give them a snowy face-wash big hug!

Or how about this delightful rendition of Mother: Abducting Children and Sucking Their Brains Out With a Straw:



I feel pretty oh so pretty! Pretty and Witty and Gay!

I wasn't kidding

when I said the Children break my stuff. Note the adorably naked toddler as he barbarically gives my Dyson the old 1-2 knockout.


Unsuspecting little thing didn’t stand a chance against his chubby-powered feet. Or as I like to call them at 3:00 am as they stab my kidneys – his clubs of death. Honestly. What’s going through his head as he boorishly drags the vacuum from the closet and begins dismantling it as unsympathetically as possible? This:

I’m quite sure that’s exactly it.

We keep telling ourselves we’ll have nice things when they’re grown and out on their own adventures. Then of course my mother reminds me that those will be the times when I most cherish their childish ways of destruction. Like the time I carved my initials into my parents’ new hutch. Apparently she just loves that work of art now.

I know I know. But it would be luxurious to own a kitchen table that didn’t show obvious signs of three children eating and drawing on it every day.

(150th post. w00t!)