Posts in AROUND THE HOUSE
PANTS AND SOCKS AND SHOES, OH MY

It’s that time of year—getting ready for back to school. When I looked at the calendar and saw that there are only two weeks left until school, I think I actually “eeked” a little. There was no way we were ready for school…clothes, shoes, supplies and other incidentals. I loudly proclaimed, “We need to get ready for back to school,” and then I marched into Monkey Boy’s room.

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SHAMPOO AND SUNDRIES

Monkey Boy likes to use my shower. Knowing that means there should be no surprises. You expect the unexpected. Once upon a time, all four of us shared a bathroom. At our last house, we had one bathroom. Mind you, it was a huge room, almost as large as the bedroom the Girl and Monkey Boy shared. All four of us could be in the bathroom at the same, standing in different corners and when reaching our hands toward each other, we would not have been able to touch fingers. We never actually tried that, standing in different corners, but there were times when all of us, and the cats, were in that room at the same time. There were also times when there was a line at the door.

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CANDY CANE LANE

B spent no small amount of time in the freezing cold getting the outside of our house Ho-Ho ready. He took a cue from one of his Christmas heroes, Clark Griswold, and strung lights on the eve and along the ground by the front porch. He placed wreaths on the windows and candy cane lights under the windows. He directed red and green spotlights to the two large evergreen trees in the front yard. He light-wrapped two of the front trees, the small ones, in white and blue lights. He also lined driveway on either side with 12” candy-cane solar lights that sparkle red at night. After he lined the driveway, he warned us all to be very careful with the lights after last year’s candy-cane light trampling debacle perpetrated by a negligent Monkey Boy. (READ TO END…THERE’S A FREE GIVEAWAY!)

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DANCE WITH ME

Last spring Monkey Boy bounced into the kitchen wearing brown and white shorts, a too-small greyish brown tee with a dinosaur crossing Abbey Road on it, a brightly colored green sock and a blue striped sock, and his new-ish sneakers. I did a double take. He then put on his yellow Monster stocking cap with purple ear covers. His outfit surprised me. Not one bit of it matched. And just as I was about to comment on his outfit, as non-judgy as possible, he did dress himself for school, after all, Monkey Boy said, “Hey guys, I want to show you some dance steps.”

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HOW WAS YOUR WEEKEND?

Ren’s February writing journal came home. He’s required to write every morning at school at least five sentences on any given prompt. As read I read through his journal, most days it was clear what the prompt was, such as, “What Did You Do Last Weekend?” or “Will the Groundhog See His Shadow?” We’ve always known that he’s quite a storyteller. He weaves a good tale, and now it seems as though his strong opinions and storytelling skills are crossing genres from oral to written. His first journal entry was a rather interesting op-ed piece on Groundhog’s Day, a complex commentary with multifaceted possibilities woven through the piece along with an somewhat predictable segue at the end.

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PILLOW TALK

Sometimes B sings in his sleep. Sometimes he giggles. Sometimes he talks. Early this morning in bed, long before the alarm, and the sunrise even, B said loudly, “Get your donut and take it to the donut station to add colors. There’s a robot on the corner.”

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IT'S ABOUT YOU, NOT ME

I handed my phone to Monkey Boy who scrolled through the results. Then he asked, “Hey Siri, is Medusa real?” Without even looking at what Siri found, he asked, “Did King Arthur cut her head off?” Only he didn’t really enunciate well, and Siri misinterpreted what he said. Siri replied, “Okay, here’s what I found for ‘King Arthur is a gonad.’”

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THE WINTER OF OUR DISCONTENT

B loves tomato soup, but I wasn’t so sure that the Girl and Monkey Boy would. I was formulating a backup meal plan for them when they wandered into the kitchen inquiring as to the “oh-my-goodness-we’re-starving” what and when of dinner. I braced myself for, “That’s what we’re having for dinner? That’s child abuse. I would rather eat vomit.” Instead, I got, “I love tomato soup!” shouted loudly and in unison. They even high-fived each other followed by a yay and a fist bump and a little jig right there in the middle of the kitchen.

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GLOVES AND SOCKS AND GLOVES AND SOCKS

Sometime over the holidays, I misplaced my winter gloves and needed something to cover my hands when I went outside in near zero degree temperatures. I didn’t want to run back upstairs—again—to grab a pair of gloves from my top dresser drawer, so I dug through the kids’ bag of gloves in the mudroom. Not a single matching pair among them, so this is what I wore.

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CLEAN SHEET NIGHT

There are a few of those extraordinarily ordinary things that I really love, like the laughter of the Girl and Monkey Boy when they are playing or reading and getting along, the softly falling snow in early winter, and freshly laundered and pressed bed linens. Today is the trifecta, and it’s just about perfect.

B went back to work this morning after taking several days off after Christmas, both to rest and refresh. We spent our days in pajamas, huddled together playing games, watching movies, reading books, and doing little else.

Right after B left for the office and knowing that this house had endured quite enough holidaying, I stripped the beds, gathered all the wash, and ventured to the laundry room to start the mountain that had accumulated during our respite.

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