For a few months now I’ve felt pretty dried up as far as writing on the ol’ blog. What was once fun has felt like more of a chore. One more thing to keep up with. One more thing I’m not doing a very good job with. (Have I told you what an abysmal bee keeper I apparently am?)
But today? I have a million topics swirling in my head. Well, okay, maybe not a million, but several.
I could tell you about my trip to Target and Dillards* yesterday with five kids and the award I deserve for not drinking afterwards. Or during. I mean, how many times, HOW MANY TIMES, do you have to tell a child (or two) to just walk? Just! walk! And how many times do/es said child(ren) need to face plant on the floor as a direct result of not just walking before s/he JUST WALKS???? I don’t know the answer to that question because, apparently, none of my kids actually fell down enough times in public yesterday to reach that point.
At least there was no blood.
Though I considered it.
At least now I’m the proud owner of some Spanx. But I’m afraid to try them on.
I could also tell you about the morning we spent today weeding the garden, the meadow, and around the pond. Golly gee wiz it was long overdue. Not saying we got it all done, either; but that’s not the point of the story. No, no. The point of the story is that I didn’t rummage around my cluttered garage and find my gardening gloves. I weeded with my bare hands. My BARE hands. Which wouldn’t be a big deal, except I have my 20-year high school reunion this weekend and I have dirt embedded in my fingernails and hands. I was never one of the popular people, and I’m fine with that, and I’m generally not particularly prissy or high-maintenance about stuff like dirt and my skin, but I really don’t want to go back after 20 years with Clampett hands and get voted White Trash Queen of the reunion.
Oh crap, I hope McH’s front tooth doesn’t fall off between now and then. Grrrrreat. One more thing to worry about.
Or I could blog bout the pending adoption legislation and how happy I am that so many people seem to be taking the time to actually read and ponder it before forming an opinion. Let’s just hope everybody in and out of Washington D.C. does the same thing with that health care bill, right? I may actually write a post dedicated to my thoughts on this adoption legislation, but in a nutshell: I am very wary of it.
Perhaps I should write about yesterday, when Quinn wanted my attention for one reason or another, and instead of making some indiscriminate noise he called out, “Mum! Muuuummmm!” and my heart melted into a big puddle of sweet, bubbly goo. He’s been able to say mom for a long time, but as with every other word in his vocabulary, generally doesn’t. This is the first time he has used it to actually communicate with me rather than just identify me. His speech really is coming along finally.
Of course, I still need to write about our (tentative) decision to send the two oldest out into the world of government school. In a nutshell (have I already nutshelled it for you? I can’t remember): we live so far out in the boonies that, for the first time in my life, I see some validity to that stupid “send them to school for socialization” argument. I call it stupid only because in most cases it is. When you live a million miles from anywhere, however, it isn’t. They need stimulation and variety in their lives that I can’t provide in a home schooling environment while still meeting the needs of the three younger children. They are very much looking forward to going, and I am very much looking forward to them having this opportunity to stretch and grow and blossom in new ways. Except for the days when I’m scared to death that they will have a horrible time adjusting and be entirely miserable at school and it will be all my fault because I have been too critical, expected too much, and made them terribly insecure and scared of the world.
*Minor Panic Attack*
Annnnnnnnd . . . I’m okay now.
I could also talk about how this summer feels like it is rushing by at a breakneck pace and I’m not really ready liking it. Because? Well, you really don’t want me to ramble on about short daylight hours and lots of darkness, and how it all makes me want to curl up in a ball and hibernate, especially now that we live out in the middle of nowhere and I feel so very, very trapped by the darkness and ice and snow. Will somebody please just buy me one of those happy light thingys for my birthday this year??????
Ummm . . . moving on . . .
I very much want to draw your attention to the new button on my blog . . . over there . . . on the right . . . up a bit . . . blue and white with black lettering. Mothers in Action for Vietnam (MAV? Not that they would call themselves mavericks or anything). Please click on that button and check out what they are doing. It is very much worth your time. Trust me. I admire these ladies tremendously for doing this.
Here. Just in case something is really wrong with you and you can’t find the button on my sidebar, I’ll paste it right into this post (because I’m nice that way):
And lastly . . . nope. That was it. No lastly.
This, of course, defies the rules of good print journalism. You see, I put one of the most important things (Mothers in Action for Vietnam) last, which isn’t a good thing. On the upside? I don’t have a word limit on the blog, so I don’t need to edit for space by just cutting off the last paragraph or two. Whew!
But if I did? Well, as you can see, I’ve just tacked on two completely worthless paragraphs that could easily be cut off. Oh, yes, so nice I am.
And George, if you’re out there, Tewt the Newt says hello.
*Note to LM: Swim suits are only 25-40% off. When they hit 75% or so, lets shop and do lunch?