So we have good news and we have bad news today. The bad news is that the new, potentially miraculous medication Chickadee finally agreed to try is making her sick as a dog. I stupidly started her on it on Friday, figuring it would give her the weekend to adjust, not realizing it meant we'd have to go the whole weekend before I could call the doctor if she had problems. Now I'm waiting for a call back and my kid probably should've stayed home from school today but was all, "I HAVE TO GO BECAUSE I CANNOT MISS MARCHING BAND OR I CAN'T MARCH AT THE GAME AND I'LL BE IN SO MUCH TROUBLE AND P.S. I...
Last night as I got ready for bed, Otto took Licorice outside for her last trip of the evening, then headed upstairs to put her in Chickadee's room. Before coming back down, he must've stopped in his office and checked his email. "We have an email from Teresa*," he said. [*Teresa is not the Hippie School owner's name, but as I'm starting to think of her as our family's very own personal Mother Teresa, I thought it would make an apt blog name for her.] "What does it say??" I asked, already fighting against a small, dark voice in the deepest corner of my brain that was only too happy to...
Several of you looked right past the story of how I nearly didn't recognize my parents' dog when they so-sneakily showed up last Sunday to surprise me, and went right for the more important issue, which was: How did Monkey do with meeting some of the kids he'll be attending Hippie School with? (I would like to buy some proper syntax for that sentence, but I'm too lazy to fix it, so just pretend it wasn't the most awkward and rambly one you've ever read.) Last Sunday we had just two of his classmates here (along with a younger sibling and the younger sibling's friend), and despite three being...
One week of school is almost over, and already I feel like we have barely seen Chickadee. Between school and marching band and homework and a new youth group and the general business of leading a life, she is busy and happy and I am trying to be grateful for family dinnertime and the five or ten minutes here and there when I can catch a smile and a hug and a shred of information about her day. One month ago, we were offered a potential treatment for Chickadee's ever-present rash and I watched with a mix of annoyance and amusement as several of you wagged your fingers in the comments, telling...
So Chickadee had a great first day of school, and Monkey had a pretty good first day of homeschooling, but then Chickadee came home with stories about her classes and friends, and THEN had to spend the evening on the computer, taking a seminar to go with her virtual math class ("Is this class conducted in space? Is the math itself all theoretical and based on futuristic robots?"), and while we were prepping dinner Monkey cut his thumb, and suddenly the two weeks until Hippie School begins was FOREVER and it wasn't FAIR and life was SAD. Fortunately, Monkey is resilient. Also, we made a LOT...
So. Seven years ago, when I started blogging, Chickadee was but a precocious 6-year-old finishing kindergarten. She alternately delighted and infuriated me, and I worried about her (a lot). Today she is a precocious 13-year-old, starting her last year of middle school. She alternately delights and infuriates me, and I still worry about her, but less than I used to. She's getting where she needs to go, even if that does mean she's snarly and grouchy and mostly unappreciative of the fact that I made her a special breakfast and packed her the lunch she requested. Instead of saying "I'm sorry"...
Yesterday we got to go to the middle twice; first, for Chickadee's 8th grade orientation, then later, for Monkey's 6th grade one. I took Chickie in the morning and marveled at how different it was, now, from her first foray into this building two years ago. She met up with friends easily, ran to greet and hug favorite teachers, and then parked herself at the brief assembly with her buds, leaving me happy to catch her glance now and then from the row behind them. We picked up her schedule and discovered she hadn't gotten a couple of teachers she'd wanted. Worse, it appeared many of her...
So Chickadee made it through band camp without incident. I'm not gonna lie, we were pleasantly surprised. It is HOT and GRUELING and there were plenty of texts about who'd passed out and how sick she felt and more than a little angst over the enormity of the task before her. [Hint: Someone spent all of last year as first chair in the band. Guess whose ego was not quite prepared to be last chair despite being 1) the youngest 2) the newest and 3) the only non-high-schooler in her section?] Now we go to a regular rehearsal schedule and soon---weekly football games. Friday afternoon found...
To recap: Monkey had to leave his social skills group last week, but this week he was allowed to return for the last session. There were apologies all around and he made a special effort to play nicely with the kid he clobbered last week, and as it was the wrap-up and party I think we were all happy to be able to end on a high note. But all was not sunshine and rainbows; he did end up under a table for part of the time, demanding that his therapist "just please make him shut up" (referencing a chatty kid who was getting on his nerves), and although SuperAspieDoc assured me it was fine and he...
