Given the long list of things I have to do to prepare for an impending vacation (laundry, putting away Christmas decorations, calling the kennel), it was with amusement that I discovered myself vacuuming the garage. I’m sure there are many who will think that vacuuming the garage ever is sheer lunacy, but for every one of you, there is someone else nodding her head in agreement.
And for every one of those, there is someone else saying, “What’s the big deal? I vacuum the garage weekly.”
Another really important task that absolutely had to get done before vacation was dropping off the various bags of items I’ve been assembling to give to Goodwill. As I furtively loaded the car, I impulsively grabbed the exersaucer and loaded it up too. I’m not sure if this means I’m (a) admitting I am done having children, (b) thumbing my nose at Murphy and his laws, or (c) sick and tired of the bulky thing taking up space in my garage. I’m leaning toward the last one.
When I stopped at the recycling center, I learned that they no longer took glass. I rarely have aluminum cans, but always have some glass to recycle. When I bemoaned this fact to a long-time resident, her response was, “What recycling center?” I will never again feel guilty about tossing a cereal box in the trash bin.
I don’t get 9 year old girls. They are foreign creatures, and I deny ever being one. Case in point:
“Katie, would you please play Play-Doh with Mary instead of doing your school work?”
Moan, whine and wail: “But then I have to clean it up! Why do I always have to clean it up? I don’t want to play Play-Doh with Mary!”
“OK, then. Fritz, would you please play Play-Doh with Mary instead of doing your school work?”
“Oh, sure!” For a 12 year old boy, the choice between Play-Doh and schoolwork is obvious.
Moan, whine and wail: “But I want to play Play-Doh with Mary! How come I never get to play Play-Doh with Mary?!”
Sorry…I thought “I don’t want to” meant “I don’t want to.”
My husband has explained to me that this behavior is typical of all females of every age. When you see him, ask him if he gets a good night’s rest on the couch.
The 3 year old girl is doing her best to exhaust me. Frequently she interrupts my day to announce, “I have to go potty.”
“Then, GO,” I will say.
She will start to leave, but then will tum back and say, “You’re not coming, Mommy!” And she’ll wait for me to get up and come. If I’m not fast enough, she’ll do a little dance to show how urgently I need to move.
When there, I’ll try to help her pull down her pants. “I DO IT!” Fine. I’ll try to help her up on the pot. “I DO IT!” Fine. I’ll try to help her wipe. “I DO IT!” Fine. Pulling up her pants, washing and drying her hands: “I DO IT!” Fine.
But that’s only half the time. The other times, she needs me to do everything for her, and there’s no telling which mood she’s in. If I leave her independent self alone in the bathroom, she’ll call me back in. I’m beginning to think she just wants the company. Katie and Jenny tend to go to the bathroom together, another behavior I just don’t get. I generally manage to hit the restrooms without a partner. Maybe I can get Mary to ask her sisters to tag along instead of me.
But then I’ll probably hear moaning, whining and wailing. “I don’t want to!”
It’s been a long time since I had a little 5 year old boy to school. Peter, who has always charmed me with his brilliance, is nevertheless still just a little boy. He’s not too happy with school, because I actually want him to sit down and do it. I watch him squirm and fidget and move up and down and all around, and it drives me nuts. For the first few months of the school year, I seriously thought there was something wrong with him. Jenny wasn’t like this; Katie wasn’t like this. But then I stopped to think. Jenny isn’t a boy; Katie isn’t a boy. Billy? Fritz? Oh, yeah, wiggles and wriggles big time.
I pity kindergarten teachers.
Fritz had to write a ~700 word essay. He chose to write about the Greek gods.
Editing that paper was…painful.
I pity middle school teachers almost as much as I pity kindergarten teachers.
And since I feel bad if I mention only 4 children in a random post, I have to add a few things about my other 2.
We did a morning chore swap, and now Katie and Jenny are emptying the dishwasher instead of Fritz and Peter. While I no longer have to help Peter differentiate between the big and small forks (which have different receptacles), I now have to guess in which drawer Jenny decides various utensils belong.
A friend loaned me the complete Harry Potter series, and I’ve worked my way up to the 4th year (I had read books1-3 previously, but I re-read them so I could remember what happened). Billy discovered the stash and dove right in. He now disappears for hours on end, and is up to the 3rd book (I need to get moving!). Unfortunately, I have to hide the book in order to get him to do chores, schoolwork, eat, go to the bathroom, play outside in the sunny, mild weather, etc. It’s a good thing breathing is an automatic thing.
And now, back to work.