Holpineville

I am Moderately Fond of Democracy

I was going to say "I love democracy!"  but then both of the candidates that I really care about ended up in run-offs.  So there are five more weeks of hard work and tension to go. 

I got up early yesterday to be a poll worker.  Yes, one of those perky people handing out cards that you try to avoid eye contact with and slip by on your way into the voting place.

By now, you probably know that I hate talking to strangers, and I also have a very difficult time waking up in the morning.  So it was a little surprising that I enjoyed myself, talking to the precinct election judge and the other corner-standers, including one of my candidate's opponents, and seeing everyone coming in. Later, I spent several hours at the election day bake sale at our kids' school, chatting with the people who live nearby about the school and the elections. Last night, I stayed late at the returns-watching party for my friend, where we all learned once again that when voter turn out is less than 20%, a couple hundred votes makes a huge difference, even in a very big city.  

One side benefit to my minor political activity in these local races is that the kids are both very interested in elections, politics, and candidates.  I like that they are seeing people they know run for office and being involved in campaigns.  On the other hand, explaining How the World Works to innocent children is not easy.  I do miss my high school civics teacher, jaded and burnt-out as the poor guy was. 

Halloween was good, from what I can now recall, four days later.  Ruby made a fab Statue of Liberty.  Carl was Skippy Jon Jones at his school's storybook dress up day parade, and then a bat on Halloween proper.  Rod was Dracula in white tie, and I was me...too tired to get a costume together.  We went to the school fall carnival on Saturday afternoon, and to a friend's party Saturday night. Sunday involved another (very loud, says Rod, who sacrificed himself and went) birthday party, and ended with Horrible Tired Crabby Kids Falling Apart Night.  Nights like that, I wonder if Carl will make it to adulthood alive and unincarcerated.  But he was all better the next day; yay! for sleep.

I keep waiting for a break in the busy, but it's not happening.  This week's special events: Ruby is taking a sewing class, Carl has a birthday party to attend, and I have meetings every night.  This weekend, there's a statewide Montessori conference at school that I need to help with, it's the 22nd anniversary of When Rod Met Andrea, I need to do some election campaigning, there's another birthday party, and a friend's art event I promised to drag my kids to. 

Also, it's my last weekend to eat in my usual fashion ever.  On Monday, I start a horrid-sounding regimen of protein drinks and nothing else for two weeks.  After that, comes the much-anticipated, carefully considered, and long-prepared for gastric bypass surgery, and food will never be quite the same. Yes, I am rather freaked out about the whole thing, and I don't really want to discuss it all here.  But I do need to think hard about what to have for dinner Sunday night...suggestions?

Montessori Education is Peace Education

That's the slogan on the school t-shirts this year.  Carl seems to have taken it to heart, to judge by his work:

He especially likes map work:

And in Montessori school you do a lot of labeling:

How do you know when it is okay to let your kid stop going to some class or activity?  Ruby is in a weekly creative writing workshop.  The program gets good reviews from most kids and parents, and several of her friends are in it. Ruby is generally creative, likes making up stories, role playing, enacting dramas, and putting on shows, and she does some writing at home from time to time.  Also, her spelling sucks, even adjusted for her age and grade level, and I think writing is an important skill kids should practice more in general.  Finally, this is the first time the program is at the kids' school and I wanted to support it by signing Ruby up. 

But somehow, Ruby doesn't like this class. She says the instructions for each assignment are too bossy, or confining; basically, she feels like she can't write what she wants.  Ruby says the writing time is too long and it's too loud and distracting in the room with everyone else.  She feels over-scheduled and Wednesdays in particular are too tiring and she's just not happy about it.

I told Ruby she needed to stick it out for the semester and we'd reconsider for the spring.  She said she realized today that the teacher's instructions are more flexible than she'd thought, so today was better.

So what do you think?  Is the benefit of the class worth the bellyaching about it?  Or should I let her drop, because she's given it an honest try and she's tired and stressed out and only seven, even if it means the school loses the program for lack of enrollment? 

Here is a poem she wrote that the teacher sent out as part of an edited anthology of the work of the class.  I gather from some of the other poems that the idea was to write a verse or two about various feelings.  I like the poem, because it seems very "Ruby" to me, and I'm not the world's finest judge of literary merit, but I have to say that I think some of her classmates wrote generally better pieces, if that makes any difference to you.   

___________

Happy

 

I bounce up and down!

 

Sad

 

I run upstairs and lie on my bed.

 

Mad

 

I say, MOM!  MOM!!

 

Alone

 

I feel sick.

 

Angry

 

I say MOM! 

 

____________

The news in brief: For the first time today, Ruby asked if she could borrow one of my books when I am done with it. And yes, she meant to read it.  Surprisingly, it was not some trashy novel, but a big thick history book.  She read a few pages and liked it, "even if I can't understand every single bit of it."  I said yes, of course.

 

Some fool scheduled Election Day precariously close to Halloween this year, so I am very busy until sometime next week with kid stuff, parties, and political action.  It's been raining way too much for my psychological comfort, Rod survived his first colonoscopy (which he got because he's now a middle aged dude and it comes with his Deluxe Executive Physical Exam Package) with no bad news, and in fact, we're all well and healthy for the moment.

Still Here, Still Busy

I took the kids to the dentist today.  Now that they are both so mature and grown-up, I have to wait, (yes, in the waiting room), while they are attended to alone in the treatment zone.  And then I am escorted back for several entire seconds of consultation with the dentist and to pay the bill. 

I am not sure that my appreciation for the time to read gossip magazines in peace, and my recognition of the fact that this is an important step in independence for the kids, outweigh my sense of being sort of left out and underinformed. 

But anyway.  Carl's mouth is still a picture of health and evenly spaced teeth and nothing is loose yet.  Ruby has no cavities but continues to have a sensitivity problem with a couple of her permanent molars that have improperly formed enamel.  If the pain gets to be too much for her, fillings would be the next step, but we've agreed to keep muddling on through.  The dentist was winking meaningfully at me when she said Ruby's bite was "okay for NOW" and when I asked about an apparently missing permanent tooth with nowhere it would fit anyway (answer: it'll come in eventually, but no, there's really not space for it).  So I guess we better get with it on the orthodontia savings account. Finally, no one gave me a gold medal for all the time Rod and I spend brushing kids' teeth and supervising the brushing of kids' teeth, and for doing the flossing that so many of my fellow parents blow off, and I am just a little disappointed at that. 

Rod is super busy at work.  I am super busy with a couple of volunteer committees and trying to get someone elected this fall.  We are also trying to get a new tenant for our rental property, and I am stuck again, trying to decide just how bad a credit score has to be before you are an unacceptable risk, and how secure Job X might be, and should we say yes, or no, and risk the only future applicant having a whole den of pitbulls, a part-time roomate on the sex offender list,  and an autobody repair side business in his garage.

More later.

Hysteria Abating

The rain has slowed to a steady drip and I haven't driven into any major puddles yet. And I am much calmer.  Sorry.

Carl had his five year old check up yesterday.  He was acting like an utter goofball, so I guess he was nervous. I made the executive decision to bribe him into cooperation, even though it sets a dangerous precedent.  Thus, he cooperated with all the things he didn't want to do (vision screening, hearing screening, scale, poking of his various parts) and he's still very excited about his prize (stuffed flying squirrel with magnetic front paws from the lobby gift shop). 

Anyway, Carl is doing fine.  He's 46 inches tall and 53 pounds, which puts him firmly on the 97th percentile line for both stature and weight, in line with the same curve he's always followed.   The 97th percentile for 20 year old males is only 6'2", by the way.  I figure he'll be blowing right past that mark around age 14. 

There was also a flu vaccine: the nasal mist, which he didn't enjoy, but it beat the injected alternative.  I got another Clueless Mommy Award to add to my collection by failing to notice the fair-sized dried booger collection in Carl's nose, and we were instructed to get back on the saline-rinsing wagon and to try some new nose spray to ward off a return to Sinus Infection Misery City this fall.  

I have noticed that Carl has trouble with at least a couple of speech sounds.  His b's and v's get mixed up, and he has trouble with the voiced "th," as in "together" and "feather."   It may be a developmental phase and he needs only time.  Or, maybe he could benefit from a few tongue exercises and some coaching.  I'm not sure.  The doctor wasn't either, so she said we should go ahead and get him a speech evaluation, which might be covered by the health insurance that we are lucky enough to have, or it might not be. In theory, you can also get a (free!) evaluation at school, but everyone I know who's tried it at our school has been frustrated and had to go elsewhere. Add that to Mommy's To Do List to figure out and schedule.

Rod is still gone, but he's coming home in time to take the kids camping this weekend.  A bunch of our friends are going, but it's pretty far away.  I was originally supposed to go, but I have a lot going on this weekend, so Rod volunteered to do it. 

Ruby is trying to put in more time on her spelling list and improve her speed in doing basic arithmetic (8+6, 9+8, etc.), because she doesn't do well on the timed tests they have at school. Tomorrow, I am spending the day helping out in her classroom, which is the first day I will have spent any time in there this year.  I think it will be exhausting but maybe I will finally start matching names and faces of the new kids. Bad financial news arrived when our Super Wonderful Tenant came over to tell me that he's being transferred out of the country toute de suite, so after a very brief period of mourning, I need to get cracking on my real estate listing.  Blah.

I just read that Lego sales in the US are up more than 20% since Carl got interested in them, which helps explain the problem with my bank account.  Do you think they could send me a rebate? If only Lego was publicly traded. 

 

Where the Fun and the Mess are Never Ending

Carl is sweet and good natured and sporadically affectionate.  However, he is not moved to perform acts of kindness and disinterested generosity as often as, say, Ruby is. Thus, I was quite touched when he spontaneously decided to make a "surprise breakfast" for Rod and me this weekend.  He started planning Saturday, when he got out a tray and loaded it up, refusing to tell me what it was for, but instructing me not to get out of bed in the morning when I "heard the thump sound."  Carl asked for help in stashing the tray in the refrigerator and obliquely asked about things Rod might like for breakfast.  

I thought he might have forgotten overnight, but no, the next morning Carl somehow managed to get the tray out of the refrigerator and all the way upstairs to the bed, without spilling the following: a cup of milk, a cup of raspberries, a cup of cheddar bunny crackers (purchased as part of the "take a child to the grocery store and pay extra" tax), a banana, and a pear.   Then he went back downstairs to get Rod a plate with a pear and a banana.  It was very sweet. 

Can someone direct me to a suitable martial arts class?  Last week I took Carl to a trial jiu jitsu class.  It was nearby, mostly conveniently scheduled, sort of affordable, and a good mix of boys and girls ages 3 to 6.  Carl was excited about trying it out, until the day it was time go.  Then he reverted back to his toddler barnacle stage, wrapping himself around my thighs and burying his head in my stomach, and being a complete nervous pill besides.   I was about to give up and go home when he finally agreed to help the teacher teach the class. 

But it didn't go well.  Carl seemed to like the individual activities (rope climb, monkey arm hang), but most of the class involved working in pairs and he either refused to be paired off or the teacher didn't pair him off, and at the end he told me he hated it.  Also, I wasn't so thrilled with the way the teacher managed the class time, and well, to me it just seemed a little....violent?  All that grabbing and pushing and wrestling? 

As I was telling Rod about this, I asked "so are there any martial arts classes that are, you know, a little less violent?  With less focus on learning how to beat people up?"  And Rod looked at me like, "well, my goodness, I sure did marry a crazy stupid person, how did that happen?"  and he gently explained that most martial arts had to do with, you know, defending one's self.  And he asked "what exactly are you looking for, then?"  To which I could only reply, "well, like yoga, maybe, with some macho power moves and yells?" 

So dear readers, what are the differences among karate, jiu jitsu, tae kwan do, capoeira, aikido, kung fu, judo, kendo, etc.? Which is best for an energetic oversized five year old with a squeamish mother? Our quest for the Right Class continues.

Carl and I finally planned his upcoming fifth birthday party, which will be at one of those indoor, giant inflated things to bounce on places.  I'm not so excited about it, because it's not a very original idea and it will cost me money, but in the pro column, let us note that it is easy to plan and I won't have to clean house.    Now if I can just figure out what to give him.  Oh, sure, there's Legos, but it seems to me Mommy and Daddy should be a bit more original in their gift-giving.  A friend of a friend offered up a chihuahua mix puppy and I thought it was destiny, or at least kismet, but Rod still says no.  Maybe the party will be the present.

Ruby opened up a bit about the things she feels she needs to work on at school: getting faster at doing basic addition/subtraction/multiplication, reading long numbers out loud, and maybe spelling.  She also thought it would help her to have a chart of things she needs to work on, including those items plus reading and piano practice, for instance.  She seems to like charts, and I know at school she figures out what she's going to do when using a chart called her "work plan" for each week. So, I need to help her pull that together.  This fall, Ruby's taking an extracurricular creative writing class, piano, and the same dance/theater class she did last year.  This is a little more busy than I originally bargained for, but we can't give up the latter two, and the first one is a pilot program we want to get started at the school, so I'm sending her to it.  Also, I have relented and agreed to let her join the Girl Scouts, so she can live out her dream of selling cookies, and that means another meeting or two each month.

In other news, the pulmonologist said that my pneumonia was indeed a weird looking case, but he thinks I'm making a fine recovery....it just takes weeks for one's lungs to clear out, sorry about that, honey.  We spent the weekend swimming, working on a volunteer project, going to sleepovers and various kid and adult parties, and doing stuff around the house.  I'm in a cleaning out frenzy, sparked by Ruby's relocation to Carl's room and an upcoming children's consignment sale, where I hope to make a million selling off the kids' outgrown clothing and no-longer-treasured belongings, assuming I can sneak them out of the house when they're not looking. 

Ruby's garden has yielded a handful of okra, one Japanese eggplant, two poblano peppers, and two banana peppers.  Rod and Ruby made fried okra last night and it was actually good.  Ruby even liked it, so score one for the garden!

I was all excited for my kids to hear the President's speech this morning, because I think the ruckus over that was completely and utterly ridiculous (and yes, I'd feel the same if it was one of my least favorite presidents from the other party giving the speech), and that it's useful to have an authority figure other than Daddy and me telling them that education is important, hard, and worthwhile.  Plus, I discount the whole "political brainwashing" argument: I know I watched plenty of Reagan speeches on school time in the 80's, and I managed not only to survive, but to become the bleeding-heart liberal that I am.  My kids are way smarter than I am and they can think for themselves.  But, I guess Carl's teacher decided the class was too young, and Ruby's class was out at one of their ancillary classes at the same time, so I guess I'll have to summarize it for them later.

Cursed

Poor Ruby. We went shoe shopping yesterday, to find a pair for school that wasn’t “uncomfortable” like the ones we just bought her, that featured “closed toes and heels” per the school dress code, and that fit both our tastes.  Sneakers, you might think, would be the thing.  But Ruby doesn’t like them, although she gamely tried a few pair.  So mostly we were looking at things with sturdy soles and a bit of padding that weren’t actually sneakers. 

We went to nine stores.  She tried on at least twenty five pairs.  We started in the children’s department at Nordstr@m, the best place for a careful fitting and pricey orthopedic children’s shoes that I know.  But this time, they failed us; nothing that was both long enough and narrow enough. 

So, at barely seven years old, Ruby is in the transition zone between children’s shoes (size 4) and adult (size 5).  Ruby is proud and excited to be able to shop in the grown up department, and I didn’t have the heart to make her see the down side: that if she is wearing adult sizes this young, it means that before long she’ll be competing with me for the six pairs of size 13’s released onto the U.S. market each year. On the up side,  I thought that moving to adult sizes would open up a new world of possibilities for her, but it turns out there are not so many non-athletic styles that work for adults and seven year olds alike.  To complicate matters further, Ruby’s feet are narrow, especially in the heel, and she has a problem with her ankle bone hitting the side of the shoe in many styles. 

So we forged on, to the adult shoes.  These seemed to fit best, and I’ve had good luck with this brand (kinda ugly but comfy), but then I realized they were a heart-stopping $180, so we moved on, out into the Dreaded Mall.  After the pricey ones, the $80 shoes at the next place seem practically reasonable, but they were just a bit too wide, with no strap to help keep them on.  And on and on we went: to Clark’s, Naturalizer, Geox, Foot Locker, Easy Spirit, Macy’s…. 

Finally Ruby settled on a pair at the Skech*rs store.  I just hate that place.  It’s loud and obnoxious and I don’t think the shoes are particularly attractive or comfortable (although I wouldn’t know, they don’t make my size).  It’s also where we bought the last rejected pair.  But the new ones come from the women’s section, not the kids, and maybe that will make all the difference.  And if not, she’ll need a new pair in a bigger size by Christmas, when I will get to go do this all again. Yippee.

In other news, I am still not quite well.  Part of me thinks it’s just a lingering virus and nagging cough and things are getting slowly better.  And part of me is tired of buying cough syrup, falling asleep with cough drops stuck to the roof of my mouth, being exhausted, and how it vaguely hurts to take a deep breath.  And yet I am also sick of going to the doctor, where I have been a lot this year, and I have plans for this week and no childcare, so it would be difficult to arrange a drop-by anyhow.   

Of course, the plans for this week may be altered by hurricane and storm warnings.  Yeah, I know the storms are way over there and not really likely to come here, but we are all a little nervous after last fall’s hurricane.  So Rod is mumbling about fast-tracking his generator starter upgrade and the newspaper is printing storm preparation checklists, and suddenly everything on the agenda for next week has a new tentativeness about it.

Otherwise, we are just counting down the days until school starts.  The kids hosted some friends for a sleepover on Friday, and we spent a few hours at the pool on Saturday.  Today I am going to try to get Ruby and Carl to try on their school clothes and see what still fits and what doesn’t.  We bought sparkling new lunchboxes, and I’m doing some volunteer work on the welcome-back school ice cream social this week.  With great anticipation, I am making a list of things to deal with once I have Time Without Children (cats to vet, oil change, yet more doctor/dentist visits, buy cat food, organize stuff for consignment sale, finish closet reorganization, drop the recycling, return ill-considered Internet purchases, plan Carl’s birthday party, finally work on big volunteer project, make this blog look better, and so on). 

 

Breathing Room

Finally.  I am at the tail end of a long period of overscheduling:

• Big two-day Montessori meeting last weekend (yeah, honestly, I might not have gone if I hadn’t been on the planning committee), and several other school meetings I missed because of all the stuff below.

• The surprise Swine Flu vacation day.

• Four nights of dance-rehearsals and performance at a place across town, which also included helping Ruby put together her costume, providing large quantities of healthy food for the dance company's groaning massive snack/dinner table, chipping in for teacher gifts, coordinating transportation for the four little dancers of our immediate acquaintance and play dates for their siblings, buying the congratulatory flowers for my little star, checking the camera batteries, and whatnot.  It was a terrific show.  Ruby was great and wants to do it again next year, and to be involved in the theater part-time when she grows up (because she still wants to be a veterinarian, too, see?).  Anyway, this place is completely worthy of anyone’s support: approachable and not-stuffy, innovative children’s programs in dance/theater/drumming/music that are available without cost, good movement classes for adults, great teachers, creative art.

• Ruby’s school project.  It turned out okay, I think, but after all the tears she shed over it and the stories I heard from other parents, I'll be offering some constructive feedback to the powers that be. Her teacher worked with her to crystallize everything down into Ruby making a piece of Montessori work about the fundamental needs of cats, and a diorama. 

• This morning, I got up early to sell carnations at school.  For Mother’s Day!  For teacher gifts!  Because the PTO is trying to fix up the playground/community park on campus.  And someone had to do it.  Plus, if it involves annoying the custodian, it always seems to become my job.  Everyone else loves this woman and thinks she’s the sweetest thing ever, and yet every time I have to ask her for something, she ends up chewing me out.  Today, it was about the tables no one told her we would need until I asked politely where they were.  Anyway, I missed my opportunity to have Carl serve me at his class breakfast because of the flower sale, and I don’t think my kids are buying me any flowers.  Which is okay, because I prefer tulips or peonies.  Although carnations en masse can be attractive, and I bought some for the grumpy custodian. 

I have a rant about Mother’s Day and how I don’t like it because it mostly ends up being another chore on some mom's to-do list, and also because my mom is still dead, but I’ll spare you.  I told Rod my present this year is my upcoming weekend away, and whatever the kids make at school.  I’m almost sure I’ll get one of Ruby and Carl’s signature Surprise Breakfasts out of the deal, too.   If you are the only female with small children on the planet who hasn’t yet been sent this video, though, you might enjoy it.  I thought about sending it to the grandmas, but it’s more geared toward those still mired in day-to-day mommy-grind.

But with my Mini-Busy Season winding down, suddenly there’s time to think about what to do, and I’m strangely at loose ends this morning.  Sure, I need to take care of a few things: brush the cat lying next to me. Put away two months of clean laundry. Return the library books, dump the recycling, do something about my complexion problems, exercise more, file/toss/shred some piles of papers, get someone to figure out how much termite damage we have and fix it…. but the deadlines are over for a few days.

I’m taking the kids to a hot and sweaty outdoor birthday party this afternoon, and tonight an artist friend has a big-deal opening.  I forgot to get a babysitter, so I’ll have to flip a coin with Rod over who gets to go.  Or maybe we’ll just collapse in a tired and cranky heap and see the show later.   This weekend, the kids have nature class and we'll go swimming.

How is your weekend shaping up?

Here is Ruby in costume.  She was supposed to wear blue and yellow, creatively:

Speedy Recovery

Thank you, CDC, for saying that we don't have to close school.  Kids are going back tomorrow! [And, contrast that to the 5 a.m. phone call telling us to expect 14 days off.] 

Which is good, because it's a crazy week and this was maybe not my best day ever.  Also, the sick child is apparently not in one of my kids' classes, because the Health Department has been only phoning parents in one of the other rooms. 

What Did I Tell You?

The kids' school is suddenly closed for the next two weeks because someone has a nice confirmed case of the H1N1. 

I am busy rearranging my life accordingly. And mourning my lost Mommy-cation: Rod says I can still go and he will take time off, but I am almost certain my friend's husband is not going to be equally accommodating.

Of course, Ruby and Carl are fine.  (Thus far.  Knock on wood, etc.) We don't know the name of the sicko yet, but surprisingly, it's not either of the little friends who generally catch every virus that comes to town. 

Between this and the hurricane, Ruby's missing almost a month of first grade. 

Sometimes I think about home schooling.  I guess I'm getting my big chance, but I'm just not prepared for it to be NOW.  Ack, ack, ack.

Going to Buy Canned Goods, Water, and Soap

Apparently, that really stupid movieI went to see last month is wrong.  The world doesn’t end this October—it’s next week, or maybe the week after. 

Evidence: The economy’s crashing and taking my bank account with it, it does nothing but rain and flood here, Carl routinely forgets to flush, and oh, yeah: we’re suddenly in swine flu annex!  Two neighborhood schools are closed already with suspected cases.  My kids' school can’t be far behind. My friends who work in essential-function jobs (healthcare) are calling to set up back-up childcare plans.  Unfortunately, the two-day meeting I don’t want to attend this weekend is still on, but I'm guessing the whole city will be in lock-down mode by next week.

What really irks me is that I have been making big plans, people, and I want them to work out.  First, we just shelled out to join a new pool for the summer, and I am guessing it’s the sort of recreation that’ll get ixnayed once people start getting sick.  Second, I have my sort-of-annual Mommy is Going Away Trip in two weeks.  I’m going to San Antonio with a friend or two for a spa day, and the art museum, and the sleeping late and the book reading and margarita drinking, with a stop at the outlet mall on the way home.  Third, I’m going to see my sisters and my favorite uncle in June, plus (fourth) we’re taking a tiny family weekend at some waterpark later that month (bet that’s a good virus-transmission environment!).  Fifth, in July, there’s a big, hugely exciting family reunion for which I just bought plane tickets.  Sixth, I have an idea for a little vaycay in August, too.

Tantrum over.  Here is a status update by family member:

Rod: Goes to work in his fireproof coveralls most days, so there must be some serious engineering going on.  Got some more prizes for filing patents (new foodprocessor, yay!) He’s also working on some household fixing-up and cranking hard on his Daddy role.  Lately, he’s earned bonus points for letting me sleep a little late and getting the kids ready for school most mornings—I got some muscle relaxants to experiment with for the back/hip pain and they make me really woozy in the mornings.  I think I won't be refilling that prescription.

Me:  Some days, it seems like my whole life revolves around shopping, laundry, cooking, and child-chauffeuring.  But then I also go to many meetings for a couple of school-related committees, and I go to the doctor: I’m going to get weight loss surgery in the fall, and although I don’t think my insurance will ultimately pay, I’m doing my best to persuade them, and my, there’s a long list of stupid things they requre before they will even entertain the petition, plus I try to schedule all my non-urgent medical care during the school year (dentist, endodontist, dermatologist, scoliosis guy, routine physical etc.).  Feeling cash-poor, I sold some of my kids’ excess stuff on eBay, which involves trips to the post office.

Ruby:  Seems to be in a better mood lately.  She finishes a month of swimming lessons tonight.  Next week will be rough; she has her “gifted and talented” project due, and her dance class has rehearsals every night and a big-deal sold-out performance at a real theater on Thursday.   (Assuming no swine-flu shelter-in-place order, mind you.)  Her G&T project is supposed to be about wild and domestic cats and what would happen if you take a domestic cat and put it in the wild or vice versa.  Somehow, it has morphed into a really funny poster Ruby drew of a cat giving birth, plus a “gym class” she wants to lead consisting of cat-like motions, and maybe a video of our cats doing something.  Rod and I try to help or advise and she gets mad.  I know there are no grades, but I really don’t know what realistic expectations are for this sort of thing. 

Carl: He has been saving his $3-a-week allowance, along with any gift money, any change he finds, and any incentive bribes (I gave him a bonus one week for behaving for the babysitter).  He has about $35 saved, I think.  What he is saving for changes from one Lego set to another several times a week.  Last weekend, he did buy one small set for about $7, which surprised me because he didn’t waiver at all on the Lego aisle about what he was getting and how much money he had. Carl is making huge progress in swimming lessons, too.  He’s such a cute, smart kid, and lots of fun.  Except lately he’s been getting disproportionately upset over minor things, like me telling him “no,” or having an accidental collision with someone at school and crying because he thinks he’s in trouble for it.  I can’t wait for this phase to pass, because it takes sooooo loooong to calm him down and get him to express himself in words, not shrieking and tears and pounding fists.

So, there you have it.  Normal life.  Plus a hint of impending doom.  How are things with you?