Hippie School is working on some sort of family history/family tree/civil rights mashup project right now---at least, I think they are. Monkey tends to be a little obtuse when it comes to telling me about what's actually happening at school. Somewhere in his brain, the fact that I oversee his HOME homeschool days gives him carte blanche to tell me only select snippets about what happens when he's over at Hippie School. As a result, if I am to believe his version of events, on a regular day at Hippie School all that happens is: He plays D&D with a couple of his buddies, someone does something...
My Prednisone-fueled pace for 2013 continues unabated. I don't know that I'm actually accomplishing anything beyond what a normal, functioning adult should be doing---possibly the last year has left me with a bar that is not so much low as it is smashed-on-the-ground and therefore easy to clear---but it certainly FEELS like I am Getting Crap Done in various areas of my life. And yet, between cleaning things and getting work done and spending hours on the phone with the government (that's... a whole 'nother story for another time, and it shall be called Medicaid May Actually Be A Unicorn) and...
We've been arguing about it for months. MONTHS! Every time you said, "I'm going to be a TEENAGER soon," I replied with a swift verbal smackdown: "No. NO YOU'RE NOT. I won't allow it. You can't!" You laughed, every time. The joke never grows old. (Then again, when has a joke ever grown old with you? Exactly. Wait, let me guess: You're Batman? I thought so!) About a week ago, you told me you had the solution. "Mom. Mom! Since you don't want me to be a teenager, I've decided I'll just turn THIRT. No teen, see?" I agreed that this was an excellent solution. "Maybe when you stop freaking out then...
Based upon the last post, you might be tempted to believe that the most extensive craft that happened here at Casa Mir during Chickadee's visit was the Great Vision Board Extravaganza. It was certainly the craftiest thing that I, personally, did, but it wasn't the craftiest thing overall. That saying about absence making the heart grow fonder was never more true than it has been for my children this year. Monkey doesn't so much wear his heart on his sleeve as he just walks around in a giant Monkey-heart-suit, gushing blood and hugs everywhere he goes. Every single time Chickadee was...
Was it a successful Christmas at Casa Mir? I think it was. No one threw up, no bones were broken, there were no car accidents or kitchen fires or other disasters. I mean, sure, I discovered mid-afternoon that somehow my father has never seen A Christmas Story, but that was easily remedied. Even as Chickadee loudly and frequently proclaimed that this was "the dumbest movie ever," I noticed that didn't stop her from watching it with us. Because really, no matter how you think you feel about it, once you happen upon this movie on the television on Christmas day, you are legally obligated to...
First: Thank you for your kindness and enthusiasm on Chickadee's post. Her head no longer fits through doorways, and she has proclaimed every one of you to be "totally cool." Second: I am rightthissecond eavesdropping on a giggle-filled sibling session of LEGO Lord of the Rings on the Wii. Maybe I'm over-romanticizing because I've missed these sounds so much, but I really do think the kids hadn't realized how much they missed each other. I want to freeze this moment in time, even if it is punctuated with Chickie screeching and Monkey laughing so hard he keeps doing things like accidentally...
She's home! SHE'S HOME! I shall love her and hug her and squeeze her and call her George Chickadee. Oh, wait. I already did that. And then, she wrote you this post. MAH BAYBEE, growing up and stuff. Enjoy! ---M What have I missed most about being home? Is it the home cooked meals, or the dog licking my tonsils every time I open my mouth to talk? Or maybe it’s the higher-than-30-degrees weather? No. No, it would definitely have to be my brother waking me up in the morning by repeatedly hitting me in the face with my own dirty sock. Ah, home sweet (er, smelly) home. After that lovely...
Despite my insistence that time SLOW DOWN ALREADY, life continues to zip right by at a maniacal pace. And now we can all stop and consider that statement and laugh at my fickleness, because wasn't I JUST wishing for 2013 to get here? And now I'm complaining that the year is nearly over and I'm not ready? I am nothing if not illogical. (No, YOU!) It's not clear to me what I feel the need to DO or FINISH this year---I mean, other than the usual sort of "everything!"---but here I am, feeling like time is spinning by and I'm on a deadline. What or when that deadline actually IS remains a...
I knew, but didn't really know, that the holidays would be hard this year. I knew intellectually, but didn't really grok how it would feel. It felt wrong to have Thanksgiving without Chickie---as thankful as I am for so many other things---and although we usually do the tree and the decorations the weekend after Thanksgiving, I didn't say anything, and neither did Otto or Monkey, so we just let it go. There's plenty of time. She'll be home in a few weeks, for a bit, and we'll try to figure out how to cram in all of the family togetherness we need around this year's unprecedented weirdness....
