Thursday, February 26, 2009
When life gets like this, the strange solution for me is to get busier. Not with those phone calls and errands, but with my kids. Because when I get cranky, I lose any semblance of patience I might otherwise have. And they pay the price with sarcasm, a raised voice, and snapped answers. None of which they deserve. So, when they come home from school, I make myself get off of this computer, find some new activities and crafts, and put our grungy clothes on so we can go for a walk in the rain. And I try to give extra hugs, to cushion the crankiness.
There are what feels like 5,000 little stories to tell here on this blog o'mine. But my brain filter is clogged. So here are the titles of a few of those blog entries, since I can't seem to focus long enough to write anything further:
My oldest child is turning eight, so that makes me: old.
Wii Fit: Is kicking my virtual behind.
I love the rain, but must it make mud for my 2 kids, 2 cats, and 1 dog to track through my kitchen?
Discipline or discrimination? ...not ready to talk about this one yet.
A clean house would be lovely, going to bed early is lovelier.
Did I mention Emma's turning eight? Sigh.
Sunday, February 22, 2009
As you can see, the blue headphones came in handy once again. We had great seats in the balcony closest to the stage. We could have been down in the orchestra seats right up front, but I felt that would be overwhelming for George, and these seats were perfect. We could see slightly offstage, so whenever Thomas was waiting in the wings, George could see him. There was much excitement, shouting, and even dancing. He even did well when the show was over. There was a very definite ending, with the actors all waving good-bye to the audience, so he understood that it was time to go.
Totally worth the money, and yet another example of how much he can handle when we give him new opportunities.
Friday, February 20, 2009
Thursday, February 19, 2009
I deeply apologize for daring to go straight through the intersection. From the lane that goes straight. Yes, you behind me, I realize that technically, I could have turned right on red. If I had wanted to turn right. Your impassioned hand gestures certainly demonstrated that possibility and my obligation to do so. But I failed you. I'm sorry.
And to you, too, driver in the oncoming left hand turn lane. I should have known that you would turn left directly in front of me as soon as the light turned green. After all, I was supposed to turn right, not go straight, as established above. Obviously, you had been communicating with the driver behind me and thought that his message had convinced me of my true path. I'm sorry if it was inconvenient to slam on the brakes inches before we met head on. I know it was for me and my children, I'm sure your cell phone was equally upset.
In the future, I will endeavor to more adequately indicate my intended route of travel. Until an "I'm not turning" signal can be designed, please assume that I will be going straight through the intersection of Garfield and 7th. From the straight lane.
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Missing her neighbor friend, there are bugs to find and no one to find them with.
Subtraction & multiplication.
Her boyfriend is moving in 20 days.
Her best friend is moving in 2 months.
Daddy is leaving for a year.
George screams when she gets bossy, and they both spend time in their rooms.
Sometimes life isn't fair.
Sometimes you get McDonald's twice in one week.
Maybe a friend from school will be at the pool tonight.
Math homework for the week is finished.
Playing tag in PE, totally the best part of school, EVER.
When the sun is shining, Mom relaxes the whole "wear a jacket" rule.
And life rolls along.
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Speaking of my family, this is how they spend their afternoons on semi-warm winter days:
Yeah, we're a classy family. Not everyone can brag about their chains-on-the-tires, red-wagon-towing tractor fun!
Wednesday, February 04, 2009
Yesterday, as we entered the building, the director exited the lunchroom at the end of the hall, beyond his classroom. A hallway packed with parents waiting to pick up kids from the morning class or drop off George's classmates. Before I had even seen her, George spotted Lee (the director) and, at the top of his lungs, yelled, "HI LEE!!" The crowd of parents giggled and "awww'ed", Lee dashed over to George and knelt down to give him a hug, and I died.
The changes, they are coming.
As for my girl? She's entering a very mysterious phase.
And then I died.