Bean lost his first two teeth, back to back, the day before and the day immediately after his seventh birthday. Now he can’t leave the hole in the front of his mouth alone, and he’s given himself a little sore on his tongue from sticking it through the gap all day. The tooth fairy and the birthday fairy had to appear together in one night, and boy was she glad she’d stashed a little cash for just such an emergency. The tooth fairy doesn’t have such a hot record at our house.
My life of leisure is about to come to a close. School starts in just over 24 hours again, and I have 45 hours a week of classes. Yeah, I know. But I can do it. To celebrate my last few days of liberty until Christmas, I finished watching Veronica Mars on Netflix. Love love love that show. Logan is Veronica’s lobster.
Time to winterize. It’s still balmy fall here, but there was enough of a snap in the air the other morning that the heat kicked on. Love that dust-burning smell of the first heat of the season… ick. Took all the fans downstairs and rolled up the sun blinds for the season. Welcome fall, my favorite season- though it’s hard to get too excited when decorating and crafts are pretty low on my totem pole.
I miss Mo. Yeah, we didn’t see each other every day or anything, but there was always the option of popping over to see each other on any given day. Now she’s all by herself, and I am too. We tried to plan a visit, but alas, so far, it’s been a bust. I need to just throw the kids in the car and show up one weekend. Stupid school and responsibility grown up stuff.
Reading Superfudge to the kids each night before bed. Nothing, and I mean nothing, had made them laugh like Uncle Feathers saying to Fudge’s ex-kindergarten teacher “Bonjour Stupid!” It’s the phrase of the day at our place. Bonjour Stupid! I’m not sure if it’s the genuine funniness of the bird calling the teacher dumb, or the illicit naughtiness of saying “stupid” over and over, but whatever it is, they giggle their butts off.
I’ve been invited to speak in Seattle in November, and I’m really hoping I can swing it. Have to look over the syllabi from my courses and see how the weekend shakes out.
Hitting the gym again, and that’s all I’m going to say about that.
Spent some time reading over the archives from the last few years. Two things about keeping a fairly regular blog: First, it’s nice to have a journal of your life, and the little details you might have forgotten had you let them float away on the eddy of time. And second, holy cow my life has been a bucket of sad for a long time! I’m so focused on plowing forward I don’t think terribly much about the wake behind me- and when I went back and started reading some of what happened, the rawness and brutality was shocking- to me!- and I lived through it. And, I never told you guys everything either. So the tidbits I did write opened up little land-mines of memories. It was a somber reminder of things I had begun to forget- or at least things that had begun to dull with a little bit of time.
My birthday is fast approaching. This year, I want child support for my birthday. That’s all. Regular, reliable child support.
Crazy Chicken Annie called me last night, and it was awesome. I love her so much, and we had a good visit when I was down in California last month. She sent Bean a birthday card that sings to him, with some birthday money. He still gets more excited about quarters than he does about dollars, but he loved the singing card and lays his head on it on the table.
Abby slept last night without a pull-up. It was not brave, it was necessity- those dang things are expensive, I was out, and I wasn’t about to put all the kids in the car and run to Safeway on a Sunday night to buy some pull-ups. Okay chicka, so here’s the jumping off point- here’s where you turn into a big girl. Mama’s sorry this couldn’t be more gentle. She did well- she was a little damp in the morning, but not bad. Second night in effect now.
Jeffrey wrote a story problem for his math class tonight: “There are 599 flies in our house, and I left the door open and let in 67 more. Now my mom is insane, how many flies do we have?” I kid you not. I hope his teacher has a sense of humor.