But, Mom, I don't need a nap! See? I'm wide awake! I'm not tired! I'm - zzzzzzz...
The last of the summer garden cucumbers.
Well, the first couple weeks of school (juggling 5 public schoolers, two homeschoolers, and one Tasmanian devil who has discovered scissors) is under our belt. We've already had our first back-to-school colds making the rounds, with Provolone down with it today. I haven't been sick in a long while so I'm getting nervous...I might be due. Anyone want to fill in for me if I come down with the Plague? Hello? The days are going by incredibly fast. Gone are the times with my hubs when we can sit down after a long day and watch something on the telly at night. Too much homework. I don't much care for most of this homework. Shouldn't they be doing this in school? I already spent several hours homeschooling, it confuses me as to why I have to spend two more each night. It's becoming a soapbox with me. And I'm not bashing teachers, I just didn't go to public school so all this is new to me. If the students do all their actual "work" at home with their parents, or respective guardians, then what do they spend 8 hours a day doing in school? But anyway. It's a good thing I married one of those people who never forget things (except to bring home milk) because I am not good at this:
But if they need help with this, I'm their girl:
Although it's been a while and I would probably get stuck and have to be air lifted to the nearest hospital for back surgery/hip replacement.
Gianni is quite thrilled that his birthday is coming up. I am not so thrilled. What happened to that little pudgy ewok I gave birth to, like 10 minutes ago? Where did he go? Did this curly haired, dimpled toddler eat him? There is no proof he ever existed. I may need to curl up on the bathroom floor and weep for a while.
Ok (strangled sob) I'm better now.
He told me this morning that it was also MY birthday and that I could have a party and then he proceeded to sing the happy birthday song to me. He also said I would be forty-forty.
Don't judge. He's homeschooled. Plus, he eats a lot of playdough.
He would like a tractor cake (surprise, surprise) and told his allergist all about it. The doctor turned to me and said, 'He reminds me of my middle son. The one I am always surprised is still living.' I can only assume he said that because as he walked in the door, Gianni was airborne in the middle of a belly flop off the examining table. He landed well and we gave him a 8.5.
The weather here is officially fall and I only have to go outside and breathe the lovely chilly air and take a walk to see all the trees turning to make my day seem calm and serene and perfect. Ok, ok, some days it takes more than orange leaves to make everything serene, but for about a nano second there, the world stands still. Then someone yells for me and someone else yells 'I found her' and then they drag me out from under the tree and force me to be a mother and responsible adult again. I consider whining and stomping my feet and throwing myself prostrate on the grass, but they'll only demand more dinner and help with the iron and signatures on school papers and threats to drink all my coffee, so I finally give in and stomp back inside. Must get better hiding places. And bring dark chocolate. And Cabernet Savignon.