I sit here, with a glass of excellent red wine from Chile, and Hobbes precariously sitting on my crossed legs. Tomorrow the entire school is attending the Suessical musical…yes, they made a musical, and the day after that I’ll be at school from 7:30am until 8:30pm for an activity night. (Hobbes must have sensed my exhaustion and just took off). I just spent an hour cutting owl footprints out of neon yellow paper that had been freshly laminated by a 50 year old laminating machine the size of a fridge.
Today has been the day of False Alarms: A girl cries her heart out because she has lost her lunch box…it was on the floor under her chair. A little boy is filled with angst when he realizes he’s ‘lost’ his basketball pillow…it’s sitting in his cubby. Today, the Screecher held up a tiny little Sesame Street book about Grover after I read aloud Horton Hears a Who and bemoans, “It’s SO SAD we can’t read this book!” and burst into tears. As adults, can we even remember a time when life was this tragic? Is it really possible that all of us were such enormous cry-babies? And don’t tell me you never were, I’ve seen the toughest little boys and girls shed fresh tears over a broken pipe cleaner hat.
Josh’s mother told me Josh was an incredibly laid back child…as a baby he lay sound asleep while his Mom vacuumed under his crib. I, on the other hand, was a mess of hysteria, a bossy, creative, emotional child…my parents were not spared a minutes peace. Even now there are times when I want to join a child and cry…
I had a mother tell us she grabbed her toddler’s wrist to help her up the stairs and she pulled the kid’s arm out of its socket. The mother was so embarrassed admitting this to us, but I could tell it made her feel better to reveal it to someone. How tough would that be as a mom? Take your kid to the doctor and he says, “Go to the ER, you’ve dislocated your kid’s shoulder.”
True to our desire to maintain healthier bodies, Josh and I tried out our new DVD: Pilates for Dummies. Ouch, dude, it is harder than you would think! We struggled and rolled around on our living room floor like beached whales trying to hold some of these poses.
I’m hungry…I’m going to make tortellini for dinner.