So I’m sitting here, watching football, and pondering what to say. Usually, I have more things to say than time in which to say them. I hoard up topics, sit on them for a while like a mother hen on her eggs, and then finally release them into the world. I’m sure you can tell by the extreme beauty, precision, thoughtfulness and articulate expression of all my posts. Or not. Anyway, I have one or two in the ruminating state, but they’re not quite ready. (Ok ok… one is on Herodotus, where I’m working to hard reading, so my post has to be REALLY GOOD and insightful. The other one is on the boys’ haircuts this weekend, but I have no pictures, and it’s totally not fair to say that the boys got haircuts and you don’t have pictures.)
I unpacked the four large boxes of loot that my mother-in-law sent. She got me 9 skirts, all of which are fantastic. Today I wore a green and coral silk skirt with a leaf-green sweater and a coral necklace. It was a great outfit. Except I forgot how silk deals with static. And I didn’t take a picture. (Daughter-in-law fail!) Also, it’s supposed to be 12 degrees tomorrow and a blizzard Wednesday, so I suspect my next two days’ wardrobe does not involve skirts.
Grey got invited for a playdate. Looking at the note saying one of his classmates had been begging to have him over, I thought how lucky he and we are. He’s navigating the social waters of preschool with more ability that I managed with college. I worry about him being a bully, not the bullied. (He’ll be the oldest in his class. He’s tall and strong and handsome. Not that he seems to have an inclination to bully.) And then there’s the flip side… exactly when is a good time for a playdate? Theres like 4 pm on Sundays. That’s it. Everything else is booked.
I had bronchitis. Did I mention? I still have a cough but the painful breathing and feeling-like-death have subsided.
I did “Upper Body Blast” with Cassandra at the gym today. I may not be able to move my arms tomorrow. I have lousy balance and core strength, but my wind is ok and my arms are pretty darn strong.
The Patriots are better, but the Seahawks have been more fun to watch.
Thane has started playing make-believe with his beloved Puppy and Grover. The other night he wept bitter, bitter tears because I would not permit him to feed Puppy (who is, by the way, a bunny rabbit) applesauce. He’s also super two, testing to find out what the boundaries are. What I mean and don’t mean. “Stop hitting Thane!” “I yike to hit! Hit hit hit!” I find it much easier to deal with this second time around, because it’s so clear to me what he’s doing and what it means and that it is his stage in development, not his personality.
I’m on another video project at work. Who knew that this would end up in my job description? This is the fun stuff though. I don’t mind.
OK. That’s it. I’m tapped out. Hopefully we’ll have a blizzardpocalypse on Wednesday and they’ll close work and I’ll get to play with my camera! Yeah!