It could've rained today; heck, it could've hailed. We could've missed the bus. Both children could've come home in tears and despair. It wouldn't have mattered. My day was perfect by 6:30 this morning. Perfection crept into my room at 6:15 and slipped under the covers beside me, all knees and elbows and flyaway hair. While Monkey has only recently stopped greeting me this way every single morning, I couldn't tell you the last time Chickadee did so. She is rarely up first, for one thing. For another, she's a little too old and cool to be seeking out a morning snuggle... usually. Utter...
Today was Open House at school, because someone decided that it would be a really splendiferous idea, this year, on account of so many people usually missing Open House because of summer travel and all, to have Open House the day before school starts. That's terribly helpful. An entire summer of "but where will I go?" and "what will my desk be like?" and a whole 22 hours of foreknowledge to soothe any wayward concerns. I'd like to meet the person who planned it this way, because I would like to thank them personally. And the bus schedule was never sent out. Also useful. What HAS the...
Next week, school starts. This week, the guilt started. BAD MOTHER! (shrieked my inner critic) SUMMER'S NEARLY GONE AND WHAT HAVE YOU DONE? I knew that we wouldn't be going on a real vacation this summer, but I had hoped for a few mini-trips and maybe a handful of other adventures. Goal accomplished, if we're counting the grocery store as a mini-trip and cutting the kids' hair as an adventure ("Hold still so I don't lop off your ear, please"). What did we do this summer? Somehow "Journey to the bottom of Monkey's closet" just doesn't have the ring for which I'd hoped. (But for the record,...
Karen has asked for pictures that demonstrate love this Thursday. My children made me a photo album---secretly, with the babysitter's help---and made me cry with it, this morning. The photos are darling and the captions are by turns sweet ("We love each other") and hilarious ("I'm not a bird I'm not a plane I'm your little girl!"). But I cannot share those pics because they're not only full faces, they're mostly backyard bathing suit sprinkler frolicking, and I don't need pervs stopping by to ogle my half-naked children. So. Instead, here's an oldie but a goodie. Sometimes when two people...
Two very unfortunate events have intersected this past week at Casa Mir. First, I seem unable to completely shake the symptoms that derailed my Walk adventure. I'll feel better---maybe a little tired, sure---for a day or two, and then the hammering headache and fever will come back again. It's been over a week, and I HAVE THINGS TO DO. As a result, I've given up lolling around in bed for silly endeavors like "taking care of my children" and "working" and "cooking dinner." Second, my children need to go back to school before I kill them. Now before y'all go yelling at me; yes, yes, I AM going...
I was puttering around in my pajamas this morning, feeling a little... well... punky, I guess, and being glad that I had another half an hour to drag myself into the shower before the sitter arrived... ... when the sitter arrived. Nothing will make you feel your (old and decrepit) age faster than opening the door, braless, for a gorgeous 16-year-old. Who is so taken aback by your dishevelled appearance that she begins apologizing immediately. Good morning! Well, it was a little mix-up, and no big deal. The sitter settled in to watch breakfast cartoons with the kids while I showered and got...
It was an unfortunate intersection of events: 1) My gynecologist's office decided that I am not allowed to get a new prescription for my beloved hormone patches via phone call; a check-up would be required, and 2) My sitter had to cancel. C'mon, kids! We're going to the gyno! Everybody pick a toy and a blindfold! The office has a waiting room with plentiful magazines and a water cooler. The water cooler, it is an invention to be admired... for it can evoke immediate, dire thirst in any child. While I checked in, Monkey and Chickadee squabbled over cups and each drank about 30 ounces of icy...
Monkey has passed six-and-a-half and is headed into six-and-three-quarters territory. In kindergarten, he was one of the smallest kids in the class, and one of the few who didn't lose a tooth during the year. This was a source of great sadness for my boy. So when he told me he had a loose tooth, a few weeks ago, we were all delighted. Of course, this "loose tooth" moved about a hair's breadth in either direction, provided that you were pushing with all your might. That was fine. And then yesterday he told me that it was REALLY WIGGLY, and I watched as he easily made the tooth flop back and...
