Guess who is thinking about New Year's Resolutions! Me! I know, right? The trivia on this blog is mind-blowing. I haven't blogged about anything substantial in quite some time. It's like a trend. I think it'll likely continue well into the new year. Of 2083. I will be really old by then. Practically 30. We've had a busy December. I'm a little sad it's almost over, and I'm a little happy it's almost over. Aren't the holidays always like that? I'm kind of dreading January/February. They're kind of the bummer months of the year. I know, I can't just be entertained all the time, but come on - the cold, the monotony, the months before anything fun happens, the cold. Ugh. Want to come over for spaghetti? Maybe on a Thursday? Okay. Right, New Year's Resolutions. Make them.
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it's a pattawin
Mitchell, showing me something he made out of lego : "Look Mommy! A pattawin!" Me, utterly confused : "A what ?" Mitch: "A pattawin!" Me : "Okaaaay . . . what's a pattawin?" (pronounced like pat-a-cake, but with "win") Mitch, using his finger to guide me along : "Blue, yellow, blue, yellow, blue, yellow." Me, laughing only a little : "Ooooh, a pattern ." Mitch : "Yeah! A pattawin!" At this point I'm assuming that he's pronouncing it that way because at school the teacher speaks only french and he doesn't get to hear the proper English pronunciation a lot. Me: "How do you say pattern in french?" Mitch : "Easy! - bleu, jaune, bleu, jaune, bleu, jaune, bleu..." I love this kid.
Get - In - The - Dang - Van . . . oh wait, there you are
Monday morning was brutal. The kids were on "let's drive mommy over the wall today" mode and they were doing a good job. I found myself yelling at them for every - dang - step involved in getting from the bathroom for one last face/hair check, to being successfully buckled up in the van. Put on your boot. It's right there. Put it on. And your jacket. Leave the dog alone. For the love of all that is holy, it is NOT time to disappear and play piano. It took almost 20 minutes to put on outerwear. We got the school and I was still seething. Then one of the kids innocently asks "Mommy, can we play?" This meaning "Can we play on the playground until the bell goes." To which I gently said "NO YOU CANNOT PLAY. IT TOOK YOU 20 MINUTES TO GET YOUR BOOTS ON YOU ARE NOT PLAYING. And I'm going to phone the school so if you even think about waiting for me to drive off before coming back outside to play, I'm gonna know about it." Scarily, I
bread, keys, santa, the toothfairy, nanowrimo, tons of baby geckos
I bought a bread maker. It is currently baking a 3lb loaf of white bread. It occurred to me twenty minutes into its baking cycle that it won't be finished until I am not home, and won't be for a while. I'm feeling a little scatter brained lately. Don't even ask me about driving halfway to Winnipeg in the car a couple of weeks ago only to have to turn around and go back after Steven called me to inform me that I had ALL the sets of van keys in my purse and he and the kids had plans. Or that I did the exact same thing just days before (happily, not on the way to Winnipeg), and again last night. I'm going to blame everything/everyone/life/work and not just my own ridiculousness. Kind of too bad about this bread though. It's actually pretty good; or, it would have been. Either way. I won’t be home because I’m taking the kids to see the Holiday Train at 4:00 and the bread will be done at 4:20. It actually irritates me that by the time Christmas is over the kids will