graduation, questionable antics with goats, and way too much crap in my house ...

Big development in the land of Eville.  We have totally switched from cow milk to almond milk.  It’s a shocking revelation, trust me.  POF has single-handedly consumed 4-5 gallons of milk, on his own, per week for years.    Which is …. Ridiculous.  So, yay us for making the switch.

What else is new?  Everything and nothing.

The Minion continues to amaze and confound at every turn with his hilarious comments.  Kindergarten registration is just a week away, and preschool graduation in a month.  Sometimes I look at him, and he looks so big and so grown up, and it just blows my mind that he’s 5 already.

Just the other night, he and POF were doing math together, and it was the cutest thing ever.  He loves numbers, like his daddy, so they can be math nerds together and leave me out of it.  Come see me when you have a paper to write, kid.  Math problems?  Go see your father.

I'm on the fence about this whole preschool graduation thing.  I mean, on the one hand ... tiny caps and gowns, seriously adorable.  But, really?  Don't I have to deal with kindergarten graduation next year?  Okay.  Maybe I am totally cool with the preschool graduation.  It's a different facility, different kids, different teachers.  Then it's off to the big school, doing the big kid, official school thing.  So, what the heck do we need a kindergarten graduation for?  Same school, same everything.  

What's the big deal?  I mean, why not a 2nd grade graduation?  Do they have a 4th grade graduation before going to middle school in 5th?  I don't think they do.  And they shouldn't.  It's school.  It's REQUIRED to succeed in life, even a tiny bit.  There should be no reason for graduation until you finish it and go to college. The reward is getting to go to the next grade with your friends and not stay behind for another year of life skills you half-assed the first time. 

What's the resale value on a pre-school cap and gown?  Chances are, it will end up sealed in a box, in the attic, next to my high school and college caps and gowns.  I have had approximately ZERO uses for them.  In fact, I have never opened the boxes.  They will stay there, sealed for future generations, until I die and The Minion has to go through all my useless crap ... then he can figure out what the hell to do with it.  Hakuna Matata and all that jazz.

We had our first zoo visit of the season recently, and I have decided that 5 is a good age to attempt the petting zoo thing.  Thus far, it’s been avoided.  Partly because I don’t really like to be assaulted by pushy goats.  And partly because of things like this:

The last time I let The Minion into a petting zoo type scenario, he kissed a goat.  Super cute.  But, ewwwww, goat lips. 

We have way too much stuff, and not enough room.  It’s getting overwhelming.  My dining room isn’t even a room for dining.  It’s a room full of crap.  It’s where all the crap I don’t have a place for gets tossed.  We are one cardboard box away from an episode of Hoarders up in this place.  So … the mission is to clean shit out.

The Minion has other ideas.  He LOVES every toy he’s ever been given.  He plays with them ALL (no, no he doesn’t), and he WANTS to keep every single one.  FOREVER.  Sigh.

Just to clarify - this is a screen shot from Two Broke Girls.  It's not NEARLY this bad ... but it could be.  I need to get my shit under control.

The worst part is, I have the same problem.  Doesn’t matter if I hate it, or if it no longer fits … if it has a significant memory attached (or if, God help me, it was a gift), I just have trouble letting it go.  I feel guilty, getting rid of something that someone gave to me.  Like they will think I don’t like them if I get rid of it.  Which is CRAZY.  So … behavior to work on … getting rid of shit you don’t need, because your house is a disaster area, and the world will not stop turning when you throw stuff out.  I get uneasy just thinking about it.

I need a dumpster, a week off, and the ability to emotionally distance myself from ‘stuff’.  The stuff isn’t needed, if anything it’s making life miserable.  So, yeah.  That stuff.  Fingers crossed I can wrestle my little inner demons and work some shit out so I can have a normal house that you can walk through in the dark without fear of injury.

The busy season is kicking in at work.  That means less time for stuff like this, and more time for actual work.  I love being busy - time passes quicker.  And I love the chaos of phones ringing and people yelling, and the pressure of "omg, gotta get this done FAST, and there are ten more just like it waitng".  But, it leaves less time for musings and postings.  I am determined to get some good stories out of it to share.

Until next time, may the Easter Pig bring you a bountiful cornucopia of chocolate delights.