We've just come to the end of the first week of school for children in our town. Since we don't send our children to school and we don't "school at home," it wasn't our first week of school--at least that's what I keep telling myself. This week:
We celebrated Grandma's 80th birthday with the cousins. It was a very sweet time. It just so happened that it was Karoline's last "month birthday"--she's officially eleven months old. The next one is a biggie!
The college boy came home for a quick visit. He reclaimed his Sox hat and tried to claim the block stacking title. He was pretty impressive, but Christian reached the highest heights.
Everyone came down with a nasty cold. The nebulizer once again took up its seasonal song. I met the new doctor in our practice. My dear, veteran doctor and good friend is fighting a losing battle with breast cancer. Please pray for her.
The new doctor and I became buddies. I made several trips to the doctor and spent a several hundred dollars on medications to ensure my children will breathe through the fall. I willfully brushed away my irritation at having to pay to breathe and instead prayed for two friends whose children's breathing problems are not so easily fixed with medicine.
The washing machine broke on Monday night. Three or four times a day, all week long, I drove my laundry up the street a mile and lugged it up two flights of stairs to wash it at my friend Mel's house. Then, I lugged the wet laundry back down the stairs and back home. I have biceps. And triceps.
I called the washing machine guy no fewer than six times this week. His voice mailbox is now full. I filled it with desperation.
I bought paper diapers.
Nicky was devastated by his inability to build block towers of any commendable height. We distracted him with Connectagons. Way cool.
I watched my friends' little boys on their packing day. And their moving day. Sure hope they didn't take our colds with them to Florida.
Christian did some math. I am certain of this because Teaching Textbooks allows me to check his progress with a click of the mouse. I think I have found math heaven.
I managed to make Indian food on the feast of Blessed Teresa of Calcutta.
We read the book for the feast on the morning after the feast.
We had the tea and sweets for the feast at 9PM on the evening after the feast. We never got to the craft. Oh well, I get points for trying, I think.
In an act of utter insanity, I decided this was a good week to get Karoline's first set of shots. A faraway friend's recent tussle with Pertussis and the counsel of the new doctor led me to go ahead and do it. News flash: Karoline is 1 in 1000 who would scream for three hours or more. What's the chance of three of my children being those 1 in 1000 children? This is a purely rhetorical question. Please don't attempt to teach me math. Whatever the chance, that's the reality. I'm just grateful it wasn't worse.
The long awaited art supplies arrived and I fell in love with Lyra pencils.
Mike hit the road for the first installment of Monday Night Football. Yep. It's officially the beginning of a new season. School or not.
And Monday will come again, right? And we can start "real school" then? Maybe not.