... I have possibly lost my mind. But hey, it's hard to tell. That's the joy of living life just on a knife's edge of sanity. Woooooo! We're counting down the days until school lets out, and I have been baking as if there's no tomorrow. Or as if there's a tomorrow BUT only if you have a LOT of decadent treats with which to meet it. Whatever. I have been back to the store for more butter THREE TIMES. My garage is filled with various containers of dozens and dozens of cookies, and an entire shelf of the fridge is covered in fudge. (Um, in appropriate receptacles. I did not just slather fudge...
'Tis the season for baking! I feel like my oven's been on more often than it's been off, the last few weeks, and this is because I love to torture myself with goodies I cannot eat. It appeals to the martyr in me, I guess. Yep. It's all bake-o-rama, all the time up in here. For one thing, it's a good distraction. For another, the holidays are coming. And finally, there's been some stuff to handle at school and you KNOW I don't ever go to school without a basket of baked goods. It's against my religion. Also, I figure we need all the help we can get. So in a fit of whimsy---tongue firmly...
Over the years, Otto and I have worked out a system for being Involved Marching Band Parents, and it's served us pretty well. My responsibilities include working in the concession stand whenever we have a home game (after my baptism by fire three years ago I somehow ended up a permanent fixture in there), assisting with the mad scramble that is uniform fittings/distributions in August, helping with fundraisers, and dropping everything to show up at any rehearsal where a child of mine has completely lost their crap and requires an intervention (fun!). Otto's responsibilities include most...
But first... a scintillating Duncan update: He is very much enjoying his hobbit meal schedule. Where he used to just sleep in my office all day long (presumably due to his low blood sugar and being mostly dead), he now hops up and follows me around the house. Bathroom break? Duncan is there! Grabbing a snack? Duncan is ready! Someone at the door? PERHAPS HE HAS KIBBLES! Duncan now believes it is his birthright to have a handful of kibble in his face at all times, and he'd be happy to follow you around to remind you. He is forgiven, because 1) he's adorable and 2) this newfound energy came...
Life! Life, you so crazy. Or maybe you so normal and my coping skills are not. Hard to know. Maybe best not to dwell! Various and sundry, because I am still suffering from the illusion that anyone gives a damn: * School has been in session for about a month. Two excellent weeks at the beginning gave way to... reality. Reality kind of sucks. * Speaking of school, I promised to share the poster grades once they were in, and I didn't forget, this teacher is just a slow grader. Chickadee got a 100, Monkey got a 97. Both were pleased. (I may or may not have muttered "grade inflation" under my...
When I'm quiet here for too long, my dad calls me to make sure no one died. I always tell him that's just silly; if someone died, I'd have something to blog about, after all. (For some reason he doesn't find that as funny as I do....) Life and the school year continue to WHOOSH past me at an alarming rate. Rest assured that I am not holding out on you on the end result of the dueling posters situation; the kids swear they haven't gotten their grades back yet, and that particular teacher seems to not be using our online grade portal, so it remains a mystery. Of course, Chickadee did mention...
I'm over at Alpha Mom today, and I will spare you a long introduction and simply say that this is not the post I intended to write nor a subject I planned to address so directly, but with a high-profile suicide in the news, I didn't know how to write about anything else. It's not a particularly cheery post. It may be uncomfortable to read or even triggering. I wish I could tell you that I had some sort of answer or formula and that suicide doesn't have to touch any of us, but... we're not immune, any of us. I could try to sugar-coat it, but that's scary as hell, right? I think it is. Suicide...
This summer kind of flew by with a great sucking *WOOOOOOOSH*, and I don't know how it happened. I mean, I do---we went on a trip, then Monkey went on a trip, and Otto went on a few trips, and for the first time in forever I had One Giant Job rather than Lots O Little Jobs, and Duncan kept acting like he was dying and had to have surgery, and then there was band camp, and POOF: summer's over. It was just... weird. It kind of makes me long for those days when summer seemed to drag on and on and I did a little jig when the kids headed back to school, because there's just no pleasing me. We...
Someone asked me the other day how long I've been gluten-free, and I couldn't remember. I ended up sounding like a complete moron, I'm sure (this would be different from the hundred other ways I normally sound like a complete moron...), with my response of, "Oh, you know, a bunch of years? Maybe 4 years? Wait, 5 years? 3 years? I MISS REAL PIZZA." [I just looked it up. 5 years!! Whoa.] It's been a long time, is all. And I feel better and my skin isn't falling off anymore and so that's all great. I appreciate not being a giant wad of eczema. In the beginning I tried my hand at various...
