Two items are rolling around in my brain this rainy morning.

First, Chickadee has her first loose top tooth. She’s lost three bottom teeth, and as soon as I got used to the adorable little gap, two permanent teeth sprung up and she now looks essentially the same as she did before. (When the third tooth decides to make an appearance is when the fun will begin, as her jaw is tiny and the two teeth already grown in have taken the entire spot left by the three vacancies.) Of the three teeth already lost, she lost one in April, one in May, and one in June. She is determined to lose this tooth in July. I fear finding her tying herself to the door or something similar to try to yank it out.

Second, I am trying to be a mature adult. It isn’t working. Because I am a bratty child. I have laid actual money down with several friends on the conviction that if my ex remarries, it will be a mail-order bride type of situation. (He is painfully shy and also has some very old-fashioned ideas about what a woman “should” be.) As he normally takes the kids to Saturday swimming lessons, he conveniently let slip that he was having company this weekend, of the female persuasion. When I offered to cover lessons, he said no, that was fine, because her bus from New York wasn’t getting in until late. Later when I asked if it was someone I knew he said no, it’s someone he’s just met. He’s just met someone who is now taking a bus from New York to stay at his house? The mind boggles. And let’s be clear: it’s not jealousy, it’s more like morbid curiosity. And maybe a wee bit of concern for the girl involved.

Of course, there’s always the chance that this will turn into some fabulous blog fodder….