I haven't written anything in quite a while. That would be because I've been pretty darn busy. Not as busy as Kim (I don't know how she stays afloat), but pretty busy none the less.
My two older children are in school now. The daughter's having a hard time adjusting to the rigors of fourth grade (and not being on a summer schedule again). She's also just plain having a hard time. I'm certain she has ADD. Therefore, I've been having a hard time with her. Most of the time, I could choke her. She's completely defiant, and forgets E-V-E-R-Y-T-H-I-N-G. Even those people in whose eyes she's always been perfect are now singing a different tune. I feel sorry for her, but she's maddening. She's extremely difficult to live with, and frankly, extremely difficult to love right now. Which makes me sad and depressed. I quite honestly feel like the daughter I used to know has died.
The middle boy is doing well in kindergarten, but it occurs to me that he needs a LOT of help in the handwriting department. Must be a boy thing. He also did something that surprised me today-he switched to his left hand. He hasn't done that since he was about two. I hope he's not a lefty in hiding.
My little boy is still the affectionate, lovable bully. He's even started pooping on the potty once in a while. Usually, that's followed by a poop in his pants, but hey...it's progress.
And, why does everything in the house have to break at once?
The A/C died some days ago. Thank God, we have some window units which are carrying us through the end of summer. Today we have the windows open, of course, which is also fine. For some time now, the toilets have been clogging, off and on. That's problematic, when you have five people who need to use the bathroom, and one who goes about every nine minutes (that would be my pregnant self). It's especially problematic when four are trying to get ready in one bathroom. At any rate, I've plunged, dumped hot water, tried Dawn, cussed, prayed...you name it. My dear husband has plunged. He also ruined the bowl of our new toilet with a crappy, worthless snake. He flooded the basement when he tried to flush the air vents. Then, on Sunday, neither toilet would work. I had had it, and I decided it was time to call the plumber. We know a plumber, and while it might not be cheap, we know he won't screw us. Well, G refused. He insisted he could fix the problem. Yes, dear, but when?! Needless to say, Monday, I went to stay with G's grandmother. Me, and all three kids. G was surprised, but I'm not exactly sure what he thought I would do if I stayed home...camp out at McDonald's most of the day? Dig a hole in the back yard? Honestly, I really wonder what he thought I would do. He did not seem to see the urgency in the matter, and didn't seem to be in any hurry to fix it. That's fine-I wouldn't be in a hurry to mess with shit, either. Which is why I would CALL THE PLUMBER. Expensive, yes. Maybe needs to go on a credit card-ouch, perhaps. But NECESSARY. TODAY. He couldn't understand why I was short with him. Eventually, I guess he wanted me to be nicer, or he wanted his family to come home, or something. Eventually, he began working on the problem. Really working. He removed the downstairs toilet, and there lay a bath toy, all covered in poo. SIGH. Love that little boy. You know that commercial where the man flushes all manner of things, trying to summon the hot plumber lady he saw next door? Yeah, that is my son, I guess. Rest assured, the toilet will flush. But the object might not ever enter the pipe. It WILL cause a problem, eventually. G has already deduced that the same problem exists upstairs. He rented a professional snake, but has already taken it back, because he's sure it's another toy. You can imagine that I'm not too pleased about that, either. One working toilet is good. One broken toilet is bad. But hey, I'm back home.
Staying with G's grandmother wasn't so bad. I only had to clean up after the kids, and I actually had help without asking once in a while. On the other hand, when I came back to my house, disaster awaited. A man, alone in the house for three days, is not a good thing.
So, anyway, since we're talking about spending money, we're talking about REALLY spending. Maybe 50% of our windows work (meaning, the others are painted shut, just plain don't open, or just plain won't stay open). You can imagine the loss of heat and cool they account for. The siding is ugly-it either needs to be painted (not my preference) or replaced. At least one portion of our roof needs to be replaced-might as well do it all. Our concrete looks terrible. And, we have a tree in the back yard that's going to cost a few thousand to have removed. It's pretty dead now, so it's time...before it falls on the house itself. It looks like we're going to suck it up and refinance. It makes me nervous, and I hate the thought of all that needs to be done. I don't even know if we can afford to do it all. But man, it will be so nice not to worry for a while when it's done. And it will be nice to enjoy our home, rather than want to stay away from it. Ah, if only the same would apply to the INside! Does refinancing come with a maid???
Showing posts with label school. Show all posts
Showing posts with label school. Show all posts
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Wrench
So, we are in the middle of a huge war. I received a call from the principal today that Collin was accepted for kindergarten this year. I told G, and he immediately started on his tirade about his horrible childhood. He claims he was an outcast and had no friends, and was beaten up daily. Perhaps he had a hard time for a while, but I just don't believe that was the case for his entire childhood. Additionally, who knows how much of that was personality based picking versus stature picking. Nevertheless, I stand by my opinion that he is projecting his past experiences on his child. I stand by all the things I've already said, as well as those of the psychologists and the doctor...not to mention my friends and family. His reasoning is invalid, to me, because it's just not reasonable. He has one con, and no pros. He has no other sides to the situation-just his one feeling...that my son is short for his age, so we should hold him back a year. I have already asked him if he will insist on holding the younger boy back-he will not. He claims it's simply because his birthday is three months earlier in the year. I said, well, that negates your whole theory then, because three months won't make a bit of difference in either of their heights. Both of them are always going to be short, until the day they die.
G is also is like a used car salesman. He has a retort and an excuse for everything. It makes me want to put a fork in my eye. He talks and twist things well out of proportion. Additionally, he's not as straightforward as I once believed him to be. To put it lightly, I take everything he says with a grain of salt. And he always has his own agenda.
So, he gave his ultimatum. I keep Collin home a year, or he will go to the school and tell them that he doesn't want him to attend. He said we could put him into a Montessori school (someone obviously put the bug in his ear about that), but that's just another excuse, because there is no way we can afford it...not to mention that pre-k is not the stimulation that he needs. The thing I hate the most about this is that he's telling my son that he's got something wrong with him. Collin has no problem with himself--if he were so concerned, why would he jeapardize that?!
I'm going to the school tomorrow to turn in the rest of my paperwork and be briefed on the test results. It makes me crazy that he's not on the same page as me. He will not listen to reason, and he doesn't respect what I have to say. He doesn't accept that raising these kids has been my job for the past 9 years, and I've been mostly responsible for everything in their lives. Why should he throw a wrench into what I feel is best now? I have lost even more respect for him. I honestly don't know where we're going to go from here.
G is also is like a used car salesman. He has a retort and an excuse for everything. It makes me want to put a fork in my eye. He talks and twist things well out of proportion. Additionally, he's not as straightforward as I once believed him to be. To put it lightly, I take everything he says with a grain of salt. And he always has his own agenda.
So, he gave his ultimatum. I keep Collin home a year, or he will go to the school and tell them that he doesn't want him to attend. He said we could put him into a Montessori school (someone obviously put the bug in his ear about that), but that's just another excuse, because there is no way we can afford it...not to mention that pre-k is not the stimulation that he needs. The thing I hate the most about this is that he's telling my son that he's got something wrong with him. Collin has no problem with himself--if he were so concerned, why would he jeapardize that?!
I'm going to the school tomorrow to turn in the rest of my paperwork and be briefed on the test results. It makes me crazy that he's not on the same page as me. He will not listen to reason, and he doesn't respect what I have to say. He doesn't accept that raising these kids has been my job for the past 9 years, and I've been mostly responsible for everything in their lives. Why should he throw a wrench into what I feel is best now? I have lost even more respect for him. I honestly don't know where we're going to go from here.
Thursday, June 19, 2008
A Day in the Life Kinda Thing
I just read my horoscope for today, and it said that in everything I do today, my enthusiasm will bubble up and influence everyone around me. HAH! First of all, let me say that I don't live my life by my horoscope, but I do look at it for entertainment purposes. I like to see if, after the fact, it's had any correlation to reality, mostly. Anyway, I've been sitting on the couch. All day. I watched Noah push around his overflowing toy shopping cart full of other toys, looking for all the world like a bag lady. I commenced daytime potty training-which means we abandon diapers during the day, and park the potty in the middle of the living room. I hate a kids' potty. It's the most revolting thing ever. That may be the hormonally nauseated me speaking. I watched the older two tie eachother, and various other neighbor kids, up to the tree with jumpropes. Other than screaming at the dog for barking nonstop, I'd say I was pretty much a bystander in life today, rather than bubbling over with enthusiasm.
I did take my son to the doctor this morning, and he was strangely excited about his check-up. He obviously doesn't remember all the shots he got last time. He didn't need any this time, either, so he was just as happy when he left. He's right there with my other two, in only the 10th percentile for height. Ah, well, there is nothing to be done about genetics. I also talked with the ped about my older son going to kindergarten "early" this year. He misses the cut-off by only eight days, so I requested that he be tested for "early" admission. It turns out that he scored really high on the cognitive part of the tests, although admittedly 5 points away from the county's guideline score. He scored in the 97th percentile for the academic portion. The school psychologist, gifted & talented coordinator, principal, and area director all recommended him for early admission. Now we await the final answer from the Board [of Education]. What's the problem, you ask? G. G is the problem. He thinks we should hold him back, because he is shorter than average. Even though my husband is a know-it-all devil's advocate, this even stunned me. My immediate thought was, what if he was taller than average? Would you insist he be placed in the second grade?! It just makes no sense. For someone who has so often said otherwise, it's amazing to me that G is focusing solely on the child's genetics, about which we can do nothing. The psychologist's report clearly says that he will need advanced math and reading in his curriculum in order to be stimulated. Hello?! What does that tell you? Now, G's concern is not unfounded. He remembers being teased for being short. Know what? I remember being teased because I wore a dress. Because my last name was Badger. Because I liked to read. Because I wore a brace on my back. Because I rode the bus. My point, obviously is that children of all ages will tease other children for ANY reason, difference, or ability that they observe. Besides, what are we teaching our son if we tell him that we didn't give him ability-appropriate training because of the way he looks?! Additionally, I'm sick to death of people generalizing and saying that boys are behind girls...that is not always the case, nor is it always that cut and dried. They may be somewhat emotionally behind girls, but generally, their academic abilities are equal if not greater. Why do we continue to sell our sons short? I spoke to the pediatrician today, knowing that he is a developmentally concerned, but also a somewhat neutral party. He feels the same way that I do. He said that he totally understands why G feels the way he does, but we have to instill confidence in our son that we can do nothing about genetics, but we can make the most of our abilities...and we deal with our inabilities. He says that especially considering he missed the cutoff by a mere eight days, and clearly qualifies, he needs the stimulation and we should enroll him. We'll see what G has to say about it.
I did take my son to the doctor this morning, and he was strangely excited about his check-up. He obviously doesn't remember all the shots he got last time. He didn't need any this time, either, so he was just as happy when he left. He's right there with my other two, in only the 10th percentile for height. Ah, well, there is nothing to be done about genetics. I also talked with the ped about my older son going to kindergarten "early" this year. He misses the cut-off by only eight days, so I requested that he be tested for "early" admission. It turns out that he scored really high on the cognitive part of the tests, although admittedly 5 points away from the county's guideline score. He scored in the 97th percentile for the academic portion. The school psychologist, gifted & talented coordinator, principal, and area director all recommended him for early admission. Now we await the final answer from the Board [of Education]. What's the problem, you ask? G. G is the problem. He thinks we should hold him back, because he is shorter than average. Even though my husband is a know-it-all devil's advocate, this even stunned me. My immediate thought was, what if he was taller than average? Would you insist he be placed in the second grade?! It just makes no sense. For someone who has so often said otherwise, it's amazing to me that G is focusing solely on the child's genetics, about which we can do nothing. The psychologist's report clearly says that he will need advanced math and reading in his curriculum in order to be stimulated. Hello?! What does that tell you? Now, G's concern is not unfounded. He remembers being teased for being short. Know what? I remember being teased because I wore a dress. Because my last name was Badger. Because I liked to read. Because I wore a brace on my back. Because I rode the bus. My point, obviously is that children of all ages will tease other children for ANY reason, difference, or ability that they observe. Besides, what are we teaching our son if we tell him that we didn't give him ability-appropriate training because of the way he looks?! Additionally, I'm sick to death of people generalizing and saying that boys are behind girls...that is not always the case, nor is it always that cut and dried. They may be somewhat emotionally behind girls, but generally, their academic abilities are equal if not greater. Why do we continue to sell our sons short? I spoke to the pediatrician today, knowing that he is a developmentally concerned, but also a somewhat neutral party. He feels the same way that I do. He said that he totally understands why G feels the way he does, but we have to instill confidence in our son that we can do nothing about genetics, but we can make the most of our abilities...and we deal with our inabilities. He says that especially considering he missed the cutoff by a mere eight days, and clearly qualifies, he needs the stimulation and we should enroll him. We'll see what G has to say about it.
Thursday, August 30, 2007
Archives-Back to School 8/28/2007
August 28, 2007
So, Monday morning, the mothers of our area were at once wistful and breathing a collective sigh of relief. Yes, back-to-school time has arrived. My oldest, my only daughter, has returned to the same elementary school I attended. I can hardly convince myself that she's really in third grade. I keep telling myself that she'll really remember stuff from here on out (well, I've been telling myself that for some time now). The first day went pretty smoothly. She was apprehensive, but quickly grew comfortable with the familiarities. This morning, however, was another story.
See, it's been a hectic few days. We were at the beach last week, and arrived home Saturday evening. After unpacking the truck, putting everything away, and doing laundry, I was already worn out. Sunday, we had a picnic and went on a nice, couple-mile hike at Patapsco State Park. That was truly nice, except that we failed to remain on the correct trail and walked WAY out of our way. So, since we had the two little boys with us, and Cam was in flip-flops, I was pretty unnerved that we would not readily find our way back. Eventually we did, a little tired, but fine. I have NO idea how my youngest son walked that far; he's only two, after all. He's sturdy.
Anyway, so then Monday we returned to our School Schedule, which means getting up at around 6:30 rather than 10:00. That sucks. And Cam is not the easiest person in the morning. Neither am I, so we honestly make a terrible pair. I'm usually very short-tempered and want to be left alone; she usually spends considerable time verbalizing her displeasure at having awakened so early and having to get ready, and very little time actually getting ready. That usually results in frenzied anger for me, trying to get her dressed, fed, brushed, and shoved out the door. It's just not pleasant, but the first day went well.
And then there was today. Last night, I went to see Aaron Lewis play his Have Guitar, Will Travel show at Ram's Head Live. Angie, Mom (yes, my mom likes Staind-a lot), and Angie's friend/co-worker Lou went, too. I'm so glad Angie bought me the ticket, it was really, really good. However, as usual, I stood right next to the obligatory Venue Jackass. A big man, he could already see better than most. But since we were standing on the rail upstairs, he found it necessary not only to lean out over the rail, but to put his hand on his hip so that his elbow jutted out into the sight path of many, my lucky self included. SIGH. We protested his inconsideration loud enough for him to hear. My sister tapped his arm. My mother flicked her beer on him, which prompted our uproarious laughter for about ten minutes. He just would not budge for the ENTIRE show. So, to my sister's concern, I spent the better half of the show with my head on my arm, laying on the rail. She was sure I was about to pass out drunk, but really I was peering through the crook of his arm. The show was so good. Angie decided it would be in her best interest not to drive, so we ended up summoning her roomate to cart us home. I can't believe Angie left her car in the city, but kudos to her for knowing she was polluted enough that she should not drive.
Needless to say, it was a late night. And then Collin had a nosebleed in the middle of the night, so I had to get up for that, with my head still a little woozy. When the alarm went off, my eyes were sure it was two hours earlier. And then my beloved child gave me all sorts of hell, barely making it to the bus stop in time. G couldn't understand why I was "speaking harshly". See, it seems to me that it's only fair that G does a share of this morning duty. He did stay up later than me last night (God knows why), but I'm also a bit peeved that I was "punished" for going to the show. I was left a lovely sink full of dishes, dirty kids' clothes all over the bathroom and living room, etc. You ladies ever get the same treatment when you go out? Hmph. Despite my resentful feelings today, I offered to "let" him go to volleyball tonight. He didn't get to play while we were at the beach, and didn't get to play last night, since I went to the show. He also won't be able to take the kids to the park on Wednesday evenings, since they're on School Schedule. See, unlike him, I get that he needs to have recreational time. He's not an afterthought, I do actually consider his needs. He should probably take the example and run with it.
Anyway...our week at the beach was good, but too short, and it rained to much. Back to the same old grind. Come on, June 12.
So, Monday morning, the mothers of our area were at once wistful and breathing a collective sigh of relief. Yes, back-to-school time has arrived. My oldest, my only daughter, has returned to the same elementary school I attended. I can hardly convince myself that she's really in third grade. I keep telling myself that she'll really remember stuff from here on out (well, I've been telling myself that for some time now). The first day went pretty smoothly. She was apprehensive, but quickly grew comfortable with the familiarities. This morning, however, was another story.
See, it's been a hectic few days. We were at the beach last week, and arrived home Saturday evening. After unpacking the truck, putting everything away, and doing laundry, I was already worn out. Sunday, we had a picnic and went on a nice, couple-mile hike at Patapsco State Park. That was truly nice, except that we failed to remain on the correct trail and walked WAY out of our way. So, since we had the two little boys with us, and Cam was in flip-flops, I was pretty unnerved that we would not readily find our way back. Eventually we did, a little tired, but fine. I have NO idea how my youngest son walked that far; he's only two, after all. He's sturdy.
Anyway, so then Monday we returned to our School Schedule, which means getting up at around 6:30 rather than 10:00. That sucks. And Cam is not the easiest person in the morning. Neither am I, so we honestly make a terrible pair. I'm usually very short-tempered and want to be left alone; she usually spends considerable time verbalizing her displeasure at having awakened so early and having to get ready, and very little time actually getting ready. That usually results in frenzied anger for me, trying to get her dressed, fed, brushed, and shoved out the door. It's just not pleasant, but the first day went well.
And then there was today. Last night, I went to see Aaron Lewis play his Have Guitar, Will Travel show at Ram's Head Live. Angie, Mom (yes, my mom likes Staind-a lot), and Angie's friend/co-worker Lou went, too. I'm so glad Angie bought me the ticket, it was really, really good. However, as usual, I stood right next to the obligatory Venue Jackass. A big man, he could already see better than most. But since we were standing on the rail upstairs, he found it necessary not only to lean out over the rail, but to put his hand on his hip so that his elbow jutted out into the sight path of many, my lucky self included. SIGH. We protested his inconsideration loud enough for him to hear. My sister tapped his arm. My mother flicked her beer on him, which prompted our uproarious laughter for about ten minutes. He just would not budge for the ENTIRE show. So, to my sister's concern, I spent the better half of the show with my head on my arm, laying on the rail. She was sure I was about to pass out drunk, but really I was peering through the crook of his arm. The show was so good. Angie decided it would be in her best interest not to drive, so we ended up summoning her roomate to cart us home. I can't believe Angie left her car in the city, but kudos to her for knowing she was polluted enough that she should not drive.
Needless to say, it was a late night. And then Collin had a nosebleed in the middle of the night, so I had to get up for that, with my head still a little woozy. When the alarm went off, my eyes were sure it was two hours earlier. And then my beloved child gave me all sorts of hell, barely making it to the bus stop in time. G couldn't understand why I was "speaking harshly". See, it seems to me that it's only fair that G does a share of this morning duty. He did stay up later than me last night (God knows why), but I'm also a bit peeved that I was "punished" for going to the show. I was left a lovely sink full of dishes, dirty kids' clothes all over the bathroom and living room, etc. You ladies ever get the same treatment when you go out? Hmph. Despite my resentful feelings today, I offered to "let" him go to volleyball tonight. He didn't get to play while we were at the beach, and didn't get to play last night, since I went to the show. He also won't be able to take the kids to the park on Wednesday evenings, since they're on School Schedule. See, unlike him, I get that he needs to have recreational time. He's not an afterthought, I do actually consider his needs. He should probably take the example and run with it.
Anyway...our week at the beach was good, but too short, and it rained to much. Back to the same old grind. Come on, June 12.
Archives-And Four Becomes Three 8/9/2007
August 9, 2007
So, I wrote this blog the other night, and in all my finesse, deleted it. *sigh* I wanted to tell you about the dinner I made...chipotle cinnamon rubbed (thanks for the suggestion, Nathan) pork chops, twice baked cheddar & bacon potatoes, zucchini pancakes (yay, the kids liked them!), corn on the cob & cinnamon apples. Yes, I made it all myself "from scratch". [From starch, maybe...yes, it was a bit of a starchy meal, but it was so good.] I'm trying to do more of that, lately, because I'm tired of eating out of a box. I made a similar meal for a lady from church who has two boys 3 and under, and is pregnant with twins...and is on complete bedrest. Ah, I remember those days...and I had no other children at that time, so I don't know how she's dealing with her two boys. She's worried for the twins, that they'll have to go to the NICU. I remember those days, too. She's far enough along that even if they do, it'll be a short stay. Man, my baby fever is just crazy! Why do I still want one more? It makes no good sense at all. Perhaps I should go visit her in another two months, when she has all the babies and is so tired she doesn't know what to do with herself. And her poor belly...the physical carrying of the two little bodies, I can tell, would be torturous. Even one is, towards the end. I can't imagine the stretch marks she'll earn. On the other hand, if a baby brings much joy to a family, twice that with two. I just wish I could be at peace with "only" having three, plus one with wings.
I also made pico de gallo, which is probably inedible, for all the jalapenos I put in it. I ate the crap out of that stuff while I was in Mexico...with the fresh guacamole and fresh tortilla chips. My wisdom tooth has recently been infected AGAIN, so I ought not eat any tortilla chips. So, the pico sits in my fridge, waiting for someone brave enough to eat it. G is not...he will not eat vegetables in salsa form unless they have been liquified. Tonight I am also making a white cake with peanut butter filling and chocolate frosting. I should probably farm that out to my sister and mother, so I won't be "forced" to eat it all.
I think one of our goldfish is dying. I expect to find him floating in the near future, as he's not swimming quite right these days. We also have an aggressor, which G insists we should flush. He is pretty mean. Who knew a goldfish would be so territorial, or whatever his problem is?
I took Cam shopping for her school stuff this evening. I can't believe it's so close. Next week, we are on vacation, thank God. Then it's back to school, already! I'm SO not ready to resume waking up at 6:30am. Then we'll have Collin's party, and then I have to have my wisdom teeth removed. I'm so anxious about it I could turn inside out. I'd rather have five more labors & deliveries. Honestly, I'd rather have any other kind of surgery. I think the greatest fear is being awake for the whole thing. I really don't care to be traumatized in that fashion.
Update...the poor fishy is dead. Now there are three. Even though he was a carnival fish, I'm sad to see him go. Nobody likes the final flush. The cake was good, but very rich. I'm thinking it will be better once it has been refrigerated...I'm weird, I like cold cake (as long as the chilling doesn't dry it out). I guess it's good that it's rich...that will prompt me to eat smaller portions of it. I'm still going to give some to whoever stops by my house in the next couple of days. :)
So, I wrote this blog the other night, and in all my finesse, deleted it. *sigh* I wanted to tell you about the dinner I made...chipotle cinnamon rubbed (thanks for the suggestion, Nathan) pork chops, twice baked cheddar & bacon potatoes, zucchini pancakes (yay, the kids liked them!), corn on the cob & cinnamon apples. Yes, I made it all myself "from scratch". [From starch, maybe...yes, it was a bit of a starchy meal, but it was so good.] I'm trying to do more of that, lately, because I'm tired of eating out of a box. I made a similar meal for a lady from church who has two boys 3 and under, and is pregnant with twins...and is on complete bedrest. Ah, I remember those days...and I had no other children at that time, so I don't know how she's dealing with her two boys. She's worried for the twins, that they'll have to go to the NICU. I remember those days, too. She's far enough along that even if they do, it'll be a short stay. Man, my baby fever is just crazy! Why do I still want one more? It makes no good sense at all. Perhaps I should go visit her in another two months, when she has all the babies and is so tired she doesn't know what to do with herself. And her poor belly...the physical carrying of the two little bodies, I can tell, would be torturous. Even one is, towards the end. I can't imagine the stretch marks she'll earn. On the other hand, if a baby brings much joy to a family, twice that with two. I just wish I could be at peace with "only" having three, plus one with wings.
I also made pico de gallo, which is probably inedible, for all the jalapenos I put in it. I ate the crap out of that stuff while I was in Mexico...with the fresh guacamole and fresh tortilla chips. My wisdom tooth has recently been infected AGAIN, so I ought not eat any tortilla chips. So, the pico sits in my fridge, waiting for someone brave enough to eat it. G is not...he will not eat vegetables in salsa form unless they have been liquified. Tonight I am also making a white cake with peanut butter filling and chocolate frosting. I should probably farm that out to my sister and mother, so I won't be "forced" to eat it all.
I think one of our goldfish is dying. I expect to find him floating in the near future, as he's not swimming quite right these days. We also have an aggressor, which G insists we should flush. He is pretty mean. Who knew a goldfish would be so territorial, or whatever his problem is?
I took Cam shopping for her school stuff this evening. I can't believe it's so close. Next week, we are on vacation, thank God. Then it's back to school, already! I'm SO not ready to resume waking up at 6:30am. Then we'll have Collin's party, and then I have to have my wisdom teeth removed. I'm so anxious about it I could turn inside out. I'd rather have five more labors & deliveries. Honestly, I'd rather have any other kind of surgery. I think the greatest fear is being awake for the whole thing. I really don't care to be traumatized in that fashion.
Update...the poor fishy is dead. Now there are three. Even though he was a carnival fish, I'm sad to see him go. Nobody likes the final flush. The cake was good, but very rich. I'm thinking it will be better once it has been refrigerated...I'm weird, I like cold cake (as long as the chilling doesn't dry it out). I guess it's good that it's rich...that will prompt me to eat smaller portions of it. I'm still going to give some to whoever stops by my house in the next couple of days. :)
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