It is almost 8:30 am and none of my children are out of bed yet. This is very, very strange. Maybe I should do a sweep of the bedrooms just to make sure everybody is still alive, except we all know that will just wake them up.
I should have been using this highly irregular free time to get showered and ready to face the day and all that, but I am the kind of person that really needs to be able to ease into the day, and this is the first time I’ve had this much quiet, ease-into-the-day time since . . . umm . . . maybe before I had children. So instead I’ve been reading headlines and articles on MSN and catching up on blogs. I think there are only 15 unread posts in my Google reader account now.
But back to the MSN reading. A couple of things caught my attention:
1. That 16-year-old girl that was feared lost at sea has been found alive and well. Thank goodness, of course. But seriously? What was a 16-year-old doing out at sea on her own? I know, I know, trying to set a record or something. But really? Is setting some kind of record so important? Speaking as a parent, I’d say no. If one of my kids wants to go off on some potentially . . .
Tank Boy just thundered down the stairs. I may not finish this post until next Wednesday now.
Where was I? Oh, yes . . . go off on some potentially life-threatening excursion just for bragging rights, I’d say, “Good luck with that, but you have to fund your excursion all on your own. Oh, and by the way? I’m no longer letting you drive the car and I won’t give you a ride to your job.”
Now I hear Quinn stirring up there.
Anyway, yes, seriously, that is what I would say. I realize we have to let our kids make choices, but that doesn’t mean we have to fund or otherwise support those choices if we find them to be blatantly stupid. And I? Find setting off to sea on some kind of solo voyage, especially when one is only 16, to be blatantly stupid. But that’s just me.
2. There was an entire article on how to have a successful camping date. Seriously?? I mean, yes, some people really enjoy camping, and I get that, and that is fine for them. But an article that starts off by advising not to rough it too much and then turns around and talks about tromping off into the woods rather than to the bathroom in the morning? What, then, is roughing it too much? The mind boggles.
And now I’ve got Quinn eating breakfast and Midge just stumbled down as well.
The whole going camping for a date thing just . . .well . . . ewww. On so many levels.
Sounds of Taylor Swift are now filling the house courtesy of Tank Boy and the time he has recently taken to figure out my iPod and speaker dock.
In other news, which didn’t and won’t make it onto MSN, we got a package from the girls’ school containing their report cards and certificates from the awards day they missed since we moved before the end of school. So that chapter is officially over and they are very, very much wanting to home school again. Though I suppose it won’t mean the same if I give them a bunch of certificates that say “Highest Average in [insert subject here].”
But I am going to keep them home this year, and we’re really going to work hard to make up for this past year which was mostly wasted.
As far has holding me accountable (see previous post) I have gone and gotten my driver’s license and I’ve been working on the bookshelves a little bit each day. I think I almost have them done. Maybe. By the time I’m done they may weight 35 extra pounds from all the coats of paint I put on them as I try to decide if I’ve really achieved a look I like. I also have gotten some of the weeding done and? As soon as I finish writing this post I’m going to call the bank to ask some questions about opening an account before I actually drive out there. Because, you know, five miles or so is such a hideous distance to drive. ;) I just don’t want to be cavorting around town with all kinds of proof-of-identity documents and a few largish checks unless I know I am going to be able to safely deposit said checks, and . . .
I think I need to have an in-state driver’s license to open an account at the place we’ve chosen, but in this state? They don’t actually give you your driver’s license on the day you go get it. They mail it to you in a week or two. This is a very foreign and surprising concept to me. So I don’t know if my temporary license, which looks like something anyone with a computer could print off, will cut it.
But, like I said, as soon as I’m done here, I’ll call and find out. We all know how much I love the telephone, so this post may never end.
Just kidding! It is now almost 9:30 am and I think I need knee replacement surgery from getting up and down so many times to get breakfast/milk/scotch tape/kid underwear/answer the phone/help Tank Boy just a bit with the iPod/give the dogs treats/etc.
Now it’s time to make some phone calls and then wake up the oldest two and teach them how to weed (vs. how to pull out flowering things that are supposed to be there). This should be fun.
And George, if you’re out there, Tewt the Newt is stopping to smell the peonies.