He’s Your Son Too!

I just got back from watching Caroline’s class perform “The Tale of Despereaux” play. Despereaux’s mom sure seemed put out by birthing a large eared, disappointing runt of a mouse. Poor Despereaux.
Despite the mother’s mean spirit, it was nice to know that even mice moms and dads have arguments about mouse rearing.
The play was so adorable.
A few weeks ago I helped them read their lines and at that time I honestly wasn’t so sure how the play would go down. They practiced daily and it showed in their performance. Caroline is one of the narrators. She and Ben, the other narrator, get to sit in director’s chairs, which makes them feel pretty special.
Today’s performance was for their fellow first graders. Tomorrow they’ll do it for the parents. Hopefully most of the parents will come. A lot of them work, so I know it’s hard to get away in the middle of the day, but I know it would mean the world to the kids. Yesterday they performed for the Kindergarteners, but Caroline missed it due to her dentist appointment.

The root canal has been postponed. The endodontist, who, quite sympathetically, has his own brood of accident prone children, opted for the “wait and see” approach. We go back in two weeks for another set of xrays and tooth vitality tests. Her roots are vital, sensitive to cold, as they should be and he’s somewhat hopeful that things will resolve on their own.
We shall see.

Caroline was not thrilled about returning to school, but I insisted. I took her back after lunch, so she got to participate in recess, math (her favorite), snack and art.
Such a tough life that kid has.

In other random news, I’m happy that the punk coiffed girl, Allison, got booted from American Idol last night. I don’t watch religiously, but I try to keep somewhat current. I may have been the only one, but I enjoyed Kris’ Beatles song on Tuesday. I happen to like that song and think that Kris is totally adorable. I’m glad he made it another week. Not that it really matters; the judges have set up an Adam/Danny finale from the get go.

I emailed our landlords last night. The pool is set to open at the end of the month and they need to sign our pool pass request form. Caroline has grand pool attendance plans, but that water is going to be COLD. All this rain and cooler temperatures are doing nothing to help warm up the pool water. Knowing her, she’ll beg incessantly, I’ll warn her of the frigid temperatures, she’ll claim to not care, stick one foot in the water and say “it’s cold.” Well, no duh. I already warned you.
She’s one of those kids that won’t heed your warnings until she tries things for herself.
“Caroline, watch where you’re walking” means nothing to her until she falls into the water fountain/wishing pond in the mall.
Yep, that happened.
She wasn’t paying attention and walked right into the water. Craig carried her dripping wet through the mall and the whole time she cried, not because she was wet, but because I wouldn’t let her eat the wet gumballs she had in her pocket. They were in the yucky mall pond/pool/fountain thing. There was no way I’d let her eat those. This moment will forever be etched in my brain. My only wish is that I had a camera with me to document this and stash it away in the “embarrass Caroline as a teenager” pile.

Along with the pool request I also casually asked them weather or not they’d let us sign another lease in July when our current one is up.
I’ve been fretting about this for ten months. The possibility of moving again has been in the back of my mind ever since we signed the lease.
I hope they’ll let us. Thanks to the Army, they’re guaranteed a rent check, and we’re good tenants, even though I accidentally burned the counter top. It was a save your hand or save the counter moment. My hand won.

Besides, the housing market isn’t exactly booming right now. Especially in pricey Northern Virginia. Putting this house back on the market would be risky.
I hope they don’t want to sell; I don’t want to move again.

There are four townhouses for rent in our area of the subdivision; we have options.
I just hope we don’t have to utilize them.

And so this concludes this random account of some not very exciting tidbits from my life.
Blogging is a funny thing. Suddenly I feel compelled to air my dirty laundry, journal about the mundane and record the ups and downs of life. It seems so natural, even though in real life I would never go up to a stranger and tell them half the stuff I write on this blog.
It’s a nice outlet.
Some days I feel particularly witty. Other days I’m whiny.
More often than not, I’m both.

I just wish that I had something more profound to say. But the truth is, I’m not all that profound. I’m shallow. Sure I can bust out the common sense when I need to, but I have not been blessed with the gift of saying the right thing at the right time.
I wander. I babble.

My words aren’t encouraging or hopeful.
I’m a great listener. But listening doesn’t translate well in blog land.
I guess I shouldn’t try to compare myself to blog writers who are blessed with God given writing talent.
I’m not a writer and I’m certainly not a thinker. I compose blog posts as if they’re a conversation. Meandering, long winded conversations.

And now I’ve lost my train of thought.

Besides, it’s time to start another load of laundry.

Perhaps I should rename this blog “The Laundry Chronicles.”

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