Reed turned 8. He IS 8. I am the mother of an 8-year-old. Stick that in your pipe and...leave it there?
I am writing. As in book-writing. As in, tearing out my hair and yelling at the computer screen because my "book" is 3 pages long. Ah, well. I can't force this. In the meantime, I've done writing exercises from an excellent book--three days in a row! Laugh if you will, but sadly, that's more consistent than I've been for years.
Savvy is actually asking to go to the bathroom. Wanting to sit on the toilet. This should be ideal, but memories of the two previous potty-training drawn-out-disasters have me a little hesitant. Maybe some princess panties will get me motivated.
We spent Thanksgiving in California with my sister and her loves, and it was glorious. We saw the new Harry Potter movie--oh, how I loved it!--and ate at In-n-Out and went to Disneyland. (Not all in the same day.) Best visit so far.
My little Q comes to visit in a little over a week! I'm breathlessly excited, and we have a project we MIGHT start that MIGHT involve her fantastic art and story-making skills, and my writing.
So many of my friends are pregnant or just had babies, and I'm telling you, my arms ache to hold the latest additions--Cara's twin girls, Charlotte and June. Just a random factoid, this raging baby hunger. It's no secret. I think I've mentioned it to strangers in passing. "Oh hello you, with the darling baby in an airport restroom! May I hold your baby? What? No? What do you mean, that's creepy?"
Last: When it comes to deciding what to blog about, it appears I am as indecisive as Reed in a candy store, so I am going to let you do the deciding. (Way to avoid, eh?) Take the poll on the top right of the blog, if you please.
And as always....thank you for reading (what is really, this time, drivel).
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Thursday, November 11, 2010
We're in trouble deep
So. Our Savvy.
She's spectacularly bold. Courageous. Strong-willed.
And sassy! And sometimes, well, sometimes she's totally sneaky. Sometimes it's really annoying stuff--like dumping all the kitties' water into their food dish so that the food plumps up and swells to fit the dish (EW.). Sometimes it's pretty harmless, like sneaking glances at my hair before she decides how she'd like her hair to be.
But today! Oh, that girl, she makes me laugh. Today, I was sitting at the computer, and I heard her in her room. She said, "Hi! I'm in my room! You see me? In my room?" -pause- "Hold on, I can't talk. My mom's talking to me." -total fabrication- -bigger pause- "I'll be right there!" Then she comes running out of her room, sailing past me, her braid-wavy hair flying and her pink Converse kicking up, and then she goes right out the back door, slamming it shut behind her!
I call out to her, and she glimpses me through the window, and then guess what she did?
She ran FASTER.
So I ran to the door, opened it, and said, "Savvy! Wait! Come here!" Her response? "Stop SEEING me!"
I said, "Savvy, it's cold outside. You need a sweater."
She was so relieved that she actually laughed, and said in a shaky voice, "Ooohhh...a sweater!" Right. A sweater. Which I'm so relieved to hear, Mom, because the little neighbor boy is totally waiting for me around the corner of the house and I told him I'd be right there. That's right. The neighbor boy.
Savvy is three years old, and she was sneaking out to see the two-year-old neighbor boy.
Phill, begin rehearsing that Scare-the-Boyfriend speech now.
She's spectacularly bold. Courageous. Strong-willed.
And sassy! And sometimes, well, sometimes she's totally sneaky. Sometimes it's really annoying stuff--like dumping all the kitties' water into their food dish so that the food plumps up and swells to fit the dish (EW.). Sometimes it's pretty harmless, like sneaking glances at my hair before she decides how she'd like her hair to be.
But today! Oh, that girl, she makes me laugh. Today, I was sitting at the computer, and I heard her in her room. She said, "Hi! I'm in my room! You see me? In my room?" -pause- "Hold on, I can't talk. My mom's talking to me." -total fabrication- -bigger pause- "I'll be right there!" Then she comes running out of her room, sailing past me, her braid-wavy hair flying and her pink Converse kicking up, and then she goes right out the back door, slamming it shut behind her!
I call out to her, and she glimpses me through the window, and then guess what she did?
She ran FASTER.
So I ran to the door, opened it, and said, "Savvy! Wait! Come here!" Her response? "Stop SEEING me!"
I said, "Savvy, it's cold outside. You need a sweater."
She was so relieved that she actually laughed, and said in a shaky voice, "Ooohhh...a sweater!" Right. A sweater. Which I'm so relieved to hear, Mom, because the little neighbor boy is totally waiting for me around the corner of the house and I told him I'd be right there. That's right. The neighbor boy.
Savvy is three years old, and she was sneaking out to see the two-year-old neighbor boy.
Phill, begin rehearsing that Scare-the-Boyfriend speech now.
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