I was crankpotting around the house this morning, both because it’s all wet and dark since the great heat wave broke the other day and because it’s only August which means I Ain’t Seen Nothin’ Yet W\/R\/T two small children and one big meanie under one roof while the rain cascades in sheets and we grow weary to the point of exhaustion of each others’ company. <\/p>\n
To get before October:<\/p>\n
– hobbies
\n– play groups \/ local friends
\n– better at wrestling children into swimsuits
\n– more wine<\/p>\n
I had no right to complain because Fresco was napping from 7:30 until 10 as it turned out, which gave me lots of time to hang with Trombone, wash dishes, eat toast, but in my head, complain I did because usually we’re out before 9 am and I was eager to get to the Most Depressing Mall in the Universe in order to visit the strangely huge dollar store within it that I might purchase Rainy Day Accessories such as paper, paint, glue, plastic Go Diego Go plates, etc.<\/p>\n
Also, Trombone gets up at 7 and 2 hours is about as long as he wants to play at home without starting to re-enact the Los Angeles riots, including the looting and burning.<\/p>\n
Fresco woke, I dressed us all for our outing, got the children strapped into their seats and was stuffing my face with peanut buttered bread while trying to find another shoe and a knock came at the door. It was a FedEx delivery person. She asked how I was and I said “arsesome” because my mouth was gummed up with peanut butter. She said she had a power adapter for me. I squealed with glee. She seemed pleased to have made me squeal with glee. I sure think it would be fun to be a FedEx delivery person. You get to wear shorts every day and drive a truck and bring people things they want.<\/p>\n
And then, because I am a Truly Superior Person, I continued on, leaving my power adapter at home for later, so that we could get to the mall before the lunch rush.<\/p>\n
When we got home, I tossed Fresco onto the couch with eleventeen fresh bibs, opened up Trombone’s new paints and handed him a brush and a pad of paper * and plugged Gloria in. “Charging,” she announced. Ah, sweet charging bliss.<\/p>\n
But Gloria? You’re on notice. One more thing goes on you and you’re going swimming with the fishes. I’m not even starting a “computer” category because this is my last post about you. SA doesn’t need much of an excuse to order one of those Dell computers with Ubuntu on it. (In fact I think he might be sabotaging you while I sleep. You’ll let me know, won’t you? Now that you can turn on long enough to send email? Thanks.)<\/p>\n
* The other day I bought Trombone some finger paints. I got them open and showed him how it was done. He got the “gross” face and took a big step back. “Mummy, they’re squishy!<\/i> Put them away!” FAIL. I know he likes to paint, though, because he has an easel & all kinds of great stuff at my parents’ place. So today I bought the washable poster paints in the little pots, the ones that come with a little brush. Open it up. Hand him the brush. A few tentative dabs at the paper later, he’s gone to five blades. His hand is painted with three different colours and he’s smearing it like a mad thing all over the paper.<\/p>\n
“Hey look, you’re finger painting,” I said, quickly moving the baby out of range.
\n“It’s squishy!” he said, “I wanna do more finger paints!”<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
I was crankpotting around the house this morning, both because it’s all wet and dark since the great heat wave broke the other day and because it’s only August which means I Ain’t Seen Nothin’ Yet W\/R\/T two small children … Continue reading