Holpineville

Because We Need a Little Christmas, Right This Very Minute

My mental list of things to write about includes, but is not limited to, the following things that happened this week:

Carl surprised us all by emptying his entire piggy bank into the charity collection his class did to support an Afghan school supplies program.  Of course, he got show off his cool Lego dungeon bank that way, too, so maybe it wasn't just altruism.  Still, it was out of character.

Carl several times very specifically has described a costume he would like to have, both for next Halloween and I think generally: black hooded robe, white mask with red eyes, and a scythe.  Yes, he wants to be Death.  (Or, "Deaf," as he calls it.)

There was a giant banana protein smoothie spill all through the mesh backpack and onto the lunch box, folder of papers, and library book one morning as we arrived at school; wasn't that fun for Mommy to clean up? We also did a lot of cleaning at home this week, although you can't really tell.

Ruby has to participate in a school district-wide invention fair this year.  She has an idea so brilliant I can't tell it to you, because if she wins, she gets a patent.  I, and Rod, if he ever turns back up, need to help her with some backup alternatives, research, and prototype production. 

I had another complicated and funky-looking mammogram followed by a long, lonely and worrisome ultrasound.  I haven't seen the final report yet, but I wasn't told to expect a call back for another biopsy, so probably it's fine, right?  On the other hand, the person who said I could leave told me she wasn't allowed to say one way or another.  I would bet I am fine, if a bit lumpy.  However, that makes two out of four annual mammograms where I had something show up that required further investigation.  It's much too stressful.  I don't really want to keep doing this every year for the rest of my life.

Rod has been working 18 hour days somewhere that's not here.  He barely calls.  I was getting angry about being neglected, and I had another one of those dreams where we've broken up and he's not a bit upset about it, but then I finally talked to him today and realized he's just busy and focused on his testing, it would take him too long to think up an affectionate text message to send me, and I should just let it go and get a grip.  So admire my maturity, okay?

We have been trying some Christmas crafts.  Oh, my, these kids do like making things.  And we're not done yet. Some of you may get some really original gifts.  

I used my Free Babysitting Card (a/k/a resident college student) to get out last night for a late dinner and a movie.  I recommend The Blind Side if you have kids or are about 45 or older.  Heartwarming, it was, and better than we expected.

I have a leaky-to-flat tire.   I become much more stressed out than the situation warrants when I have car problems, and I've decided this one is almost certainly Rod's fault, don't you think? I hope we can fill it up enough to make it to the tire place tomorrow.

Carl's got a cold and it makes his nose bleed and his voice sound like he's in puberty. 

I got my H1N1 shot, just in case that wasn't what I had when I got pneumonia last summer, and I took the kids to get theirs.  They were hoping for the nasal spray, but the doctor didn't want to give it to Carl because he uses Nason@xand has a history of sinus/ear/etc. issues.  I didn't want one kid to get off easier than the other, so I said we'd take big sharp needles all around.  You probably heard the screaming and sobbing from your place, right?  I didn't realize my kids were such wimps.  It was completely horrible and it went on forever.  And then Carl just about jumped off a bridge when the taco place got his take out order wrong afterward.  I don't know that I can face taking them back for the second dose next month. 

I also managed to work in haircuts for the kids this week, too.  They look even cuter than usual.

Christmas cheer is wiping me out this year: there's been too much forced creative thinking, too much shopping, too much planning, too much spending... The only thing I've avoided is doing any baking, due to my current diet, and sending cards, which I gave up a few years ago.  Who needs them, when there's a blog and Faceb@@k? I need to develop a "gifts for children only" pact with some people.  I am feeling deep guilt over not finishing some knitting projects I wanted to make for presents.  And we haven't started wrapping yet, and I will have to go to the inner circle of Hell (post office) again tomorrow, with the little urchins in tow.

You May as Well Hear it From Me First

I might need to have some bangs cut tomorrow. I hope not, but it could be necessary because a moderately sized fireball singed my hair when I was lighting the (gas) fireplace for my kids to roast marshmallows in tonight.  (Yes, I am that nice, or maybe that bad, of a parent).  I understand what I did wrong and it was stupid, of course, as most mistakes are.  I was initially relieved that I didn't set the kids or the Christmas stockings on fire, and then I realized the little confetti things and the bad smell in the air were my lightly burned hair.  I don't think it was all that much.  Still, whoops!

The kids were all excited to tell Daddy about it, which I discouraged, because he barely trusts me to do technical things like drive and tie shoelaces, but it turned out not to be an issue because he hasn't phoned home today.  Making lemons from lemonade, I took the opportunity to gently lecture the little tykes on fire safety and to share the story of the other time I singed my hair badly enough to need a trim.  I was five or six, I think, and I got too caught up in watching and throwing bits of stuff onto a leaf/trash fire my dad had going (I'm pretty sure it was even legal then and there), and by the time I went back inside, I'd melted the ends of my hair. Ah, memories.

By way of back story, Rod is off at a top secret location this week doing another experiment of epic importance to the world energy industry... or something like that.   He is also supposed to be catching up on sleep so as to improve his mood before the upcoming Holpine Road trip.  I should probably go ahead and book the family therapy session for right after we get back, because Rod is traditionally very cranky on road trips, Carl is impossible when he's tired (i.e., on vacation) and Ruby gets car sick.  By contrast, I am a perfect model of emotional equilibrium, and such good traveling company, too.

Anyway, before Rod left we had a very busy weekend: Brownie meeting, temper tantrums, nature class, cranky sulking and whining, major neighborhood holiday event, gingerbread house construction, mounds of laundry and dirty dishes, crying over failed craft projects, etc.  Rod and I both did shifts working the polls for my friend who just barely won her school district race, and I was at the returns-watching party until late.   

[Aside: People who voluntarily disenfranchise themselves by not voting really make me angry.  A few votes can make a big difference.  My candidate won by less than 200 votes, and especially in local politics, individuals have much more influence than most people think.  Trust me.]

Today, I filled in for the teacher's assistant in Ruby's class.  I love Montessori.  Because it's the last week before the break, the kids were having a "work-a-thon," where the teacher would donate a nickel for every piece of work they completed.  It involved graphing, and counting by fives, and handling money, and they were enthralled, and they did a lot of work!  I got to see Ruby doing her math "checkerboard" work, which is otherwise known as long multiplication.   Tonight, I had a long depressing board meeting, to which I had to bring the kids, but they did a good job of entertaining themselves at a nearby table.  Afterward, we went home and did yoga (they needed to burn energy) and then the marshmallows were the reward. 

This week, besides single parenting, I am dragging everyone around to end-of-the-year doctor appointments, trying to buy presents for difficult people (you know who you are!) we love anyway, trying to avoid buying myself cool stuff instead, and helping Ruby with some holiday craft projects she simply must do. Also, I need to clean house, get some exercise, and do some frantic knitting.

Never Trust a Reporter

Oh, look!  I'm in the news again.  And yes, again, it's basically what said, but not exactly how I meant it.  Isn't that how it always works when you talk to a reporter?  But, no harm done, I suppose.

We are all well.  The kids are tired from a weekend of festivity.  There was a laser tag birthday party on Saturday and then Saturday night I took Ruby to a classical pops holiday concert featuring our house guest college student.  Ruby surprised me by staying awake and by really enjoying the music, even the obscure weird pieces.  Sunday, we went to the Christmas tree farm and brought home a slightly more modest specimen than usual.  The kids were very excited about decorating it, and for the first year they were even useful in doing so.  Today, we had a pancake dinner at their school and then we bought stuff at the school book fair.  It pains me to pay more than Internet discount price for books, or to buy them when we could just check them out of the library, but the kids were so happy to choose some, and I suppose it helps the school.

Rod is frantic and swamped with year-end work deadlines, and has a business trip looming.  I am busy with a long list of projects and errands and appointments and ideas that we can just call "Stuff."

Finally

We're having a brief spell of weather I can appreciate!  It's the week I can stop sweating!  It's been cold (40's today!), the trees have miraculously turned pretty colors (doesn't usually happen here at all), and right now, it's......snowing!  At my house, it's more like chunky rain, but I can pretend.  Too bad the little turnips are stuck in school.

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).