Virtual housekeeping sucks too
Most of you already know that my house is none too clean but now I must tell you that my virtual house is even messier. It’s because Brett only scrubs real-for-true surfaces so I can’t beg him to make my desktop and inbox all nice and shiny.
I’m at the library so that I will NOT get online and instead will work on my antiadoption edits because you know, I’m going to write this flipping thing even if it takes me eighty years to do it (and it might). Anyway, even though I can’t get online, I can answer email (in fact, this is a great way to get through the sludge, which is my inbox since nothing new will wing its way in while I answer and delete) and because of Ecto (damn them), I can also blog. Fortunately, I can’t read blogs however and that’s my real downfall in any case.
(Speaking of emails, apparently I owe many of you a return one and I’m way behind on this. Please don’t take my lousy response time personally and feel free to write me again if you don’t hear from me!)
Noah is upstairs feeling very important and adult because I’m not anywhere near the children’s section. He loves that. He checks out way more books if I leave him unsupervised because he’s all about doing things with no input from me whatsoever, thank you very much.
As I predicted, he loved his self-defense class. Ask him next time you see him to demonstrate his stance and one-two-three attack for you. He will likely appreciate the opportunity. Chris also did a good job setting the kids up because he told them but before they resort to hitting, they ought to try running. Now that’s my kind of self-defense class.
For the most part, I am loving 8-year oldness. Sure, he rolls his eyes at me a lot and drags himself around and is a touch too sarcastic but he’s also very entertaining.
He gelled his hair today, which I think might be the first step towards breaking out of his baseball hat rut. I don’t know though; it might just be a fad for today. Still he’s never been vain so this is a whole new world for us.
Must be the age.
He says serio-comic things, too. Like when he watched Madison yell at me for taking away the screw she somehow managed to wrest from the drawer pull in the bathroom.
“If that’s any indication,” he says, shaking his head at her hissy fit. “She’s going to be one bossy girl someday.”
Speaking of our bossy girl, she’s becoming much more fun as well. I like to talk to her while I’m spooning her yogurt in her waiting mouth at lunch. We talk about what she did that morning.
“Remember we saw the flowers?”
Her mouth rounds in an “O” of amazement and she puts her hands out the way she did when she caught first sight of our neighbor’s opening tulips.
“Yes, they were beautiful, weren’t they? And then remember how Peanut knocked you down?”
“Daw!” she shouts, meaning dog. “Ba!” she adds because she was holding the ball that Peanut likes to chase.
It’s like a real conversation. Sort of. Almost.
I love it when they start becoming people with opinions and stories and interests. They’re like little treasure boxes.
p.s. I can’t find the cord to upload more pictures so it’s light on Noah these days. He’s still living in my camera.
