une multitude de billes

On the desk here is a tin box full of marbles. This being Canada, it's imprinted with both English and French.

Turns out, a box full of marbles translates to une multitude de billes.

Which is a direct metaphor for this morning.
  Cass is finishing an....ambitious....project for his third grade class.It's a desert habitat, complete with research, figurines, and a diorama. While the research part went smoothly, and his papers are typed*, the painting and finishing of the diorama has been.....well, a challenge.

(I'm currently hiding out in the living room so I have to interact as little as possible.)

Not that he's not doing an awesome job. And I'm certainly not against giving him a hand with colour choices and detail work with a toothpick, should it come to that.

But holy God, he's like a room full of weasels to get to concentrate on the task at hand. Three hours, three figurines. And we haven't touched the plants yet. I've finally called a time out to go to town and get more yellow paint and I don't know....break up the drama or something?

And now I'm got the music up loud and I'm listening to them giggle over their lunches. Tempest departed.




*By him. This summer I discovered that Cass likes to write much more if he can type on the computer. Win-win, as far as I'm concerned.

double vision

Yesterday was H1N1 shot day.

My two had their seasonal flu shots a few weeks ago, and C reacted badly, so we'd been working on tensing up all his muscles, blowing out his breath, and then relaxing his arms so he could have the shot over and done with quickly.

It worked stupendously until the actual moment the doctor came in the office.

And then all hell broke loose.

And I practically had to pile-drive the poor kid again.

Rosey the Roo watched her brother folded in a sobbing mess on the floor, then got up and re-settled herself in the chair next to the doctor. She flopped her arm on the chair and watched (watched!) while the doctor gave her shot, huffing in her breath only when a tiny bead of blood welled up when the needle was removed.

Why do I keep forgetting they're so different?

Before she was born, I thought having two kids would be easier than one - in some ways, am not entirely deluded - but it seems as if the second go around ought to be easier - you're not so stymied by the stages, you have a better understanding of bottles and breastfeeding and toilet-training (or at least it's not a total wander-in-the-wilderness)...it just seems...like...it should be...simpler?

Oh, how the gods laughed.

But sometimes - just sometimes - when they're playing together and giggling over the same things....when their laughter rings out like bells......and their dark heads bend over something....

It's like they're halves of the same whole.

confession

sh!!!!

I like the new stove.

It's not as good-looking as the other, not the same memories and continuance and the feeling of hunkering-down-and-this-is-home that the old one gave, certainly not as gorgeous and a thing of beauty lasts forever......

But man, does it have a big oven. And the light works. And when you walk into my kitchen and someone turns on the burners, you don't catch a whiff of gas.

(unless you're next to the dog. Sorry, couldn't resist!)

I kept the back panel of my late, lamented stove - the part that proudly announced 'Findlay' (and the conversations where we almost named Cass Finlay or Finn? Are rising to haunt me. You don't think...? Naaahhhh.) and I'm going to gut it of wiring and then figure out a way to hang it up. At least, that's the plan. It may look too odd and then I'll have to figure something else. But I'm loath to let go of it all so quickly.

But yes, I like the new stove. Amazing.

mango dreams

I painted the bathroom today.

After all my angst and second-guessing myself about the color, I rolled it on and

hmm.

Mango Dreams. The color name is Mango Dreams.It ....looks like off-white.

Hmm.

Well.

...well, I still can't tell if I like it or not. But compared to the baby-blue and black with random red squares that it was*?

It's fricking gorgeous.





*It was baby-blue squares with rims of black. When we moved in, I painted a few random squares red. It was great for about a month, and I've hated it ever since.

things you don't want to know

• When washing clothes, remember son has had a snuffy nose for (well, ever) and look for Kleenex in pockets, or else you will spend a long time weeping over your dark shirts.

• Dog poop is funny when you put it on a shovel and chase your sister.
  It's less funny when you trip and whack yourself in the head with the (stick part) of the shovel and then your Mom makes you clean your shoes.

• Puzzles aren't any fun when pieces are missing. It is still NOT acceptable, though, to sob and toss pieces around like confetti while shrieking, and then kick the dog.

• Meatballs do NOT go well with mushroom alfredo sauce.
  

not always so grouchy

B is, of course, going to the doctor this morning.
I forget what a shrew I sound like when I type in blog entries after midnight - I just get damned tired of being the caretaker sometimes.

And I'm so not happy when I get woken up. Really. I grow fangs and everything.

This morning, Miss R still has the (horrible) cough and I'm watching the boy (no school today, snow and rain) like a hawk. If he goes down, it'll be just me and the sick peoples. (Heeeelp!)

On a nicer note, R and C are dying to yank out the popsicle sticks and glue and glitter again.
It's a craft day, people! I've been making these for the last few days on and off - I may actually get one I like, someday!