Oh! Why, hello there . . . um, yeah - over three months since my last post. I have very little to say for myself. Sorry. Nothing horrible happened that caused me to drop off the face of the blogosphere. Time just . . . passed. I almost didn’t think I’d remember how to log in.
Naptime was lost, and I’d say that was a key factor since naptime was always blog time for me. Getting the dog, another factor since I had to figure out how to take care of kids AND a dog. And it’s always hard to start up again after so long. You feel like you have to have some wonderful post in order to warrant putting something up after so long.
I don’t have a wonderful post.
But I suppose this is the first step to starting up again, just putting something up so that ohmygosh it hasn’t been three months since I blogged!
To follow up on those last few topics I left hanging in the air:
On the subject of dogs being walked to school - I did continue to walk Kiki to Sam’s school, that is, until recently when it just got too darned cold. Eventually the school sent out a notice to everyone confirming that they are dog friendly, saying that bringing along our pets is just fine as long as they are on a leash. It was clearly a notice in response to some people bringing non-leashed dogs with them, which I consider rather insane. In my very short time as a dog owner, what I can say is that even if you think you know your dog and what it will do, you DON’T know all the kids going in and out of the school and what they will do. Many of them clearly have no experience with dogs, and I would argue that even if one knows their dog well, putting them into a situation where there are so many kids running around, not to mention other dogs in the area, a new situation could arise in which you have not yet seen how your dog will respond, and you best have them leashed so you’re ready.
Sam is in Kindergarten. I still feel my stomach drop just a little when he walks through the gate by himself every day. Since I’ve recently started driving him I’ve had the added bonus of experiencing the complete aggressive chaos the beautifully fair and just system that is “the carpool line.”
Holy crap. Carpool drop-off and pick-up sucks. It’s almost, almost worth walking really freaking far in extreme freaking cold in order to avoid it. Almost.
Yesterday I was chastised by the carpool line patrol for getting out of the car to help Sam out and hug him goodbye. See, apparently I, the driver, am not supposed to get out of the car at all. Let me just point out though, that there is a separate spot for Kindergarten drop off that is just past where every other kid is getting dropped off. So typically when I drop him off there is no one behind me at all because there are fewer kindergartners, and the line for everyone else is about 50 yards back - that’s where the jam is.
When the woman had words with me about not being allowed to get out of my car because I was blocking the line, I was able to turn to the area behind my car, where there was absolutely no one. As in, NO LINE to be blocked.
Let me also point out that my kid is in a carseat (no, dwell not on the fact that my kindergartner is still small enough to be in a carseat. Let it go.) and cannot physically get out himself. And I’ll also throw in that he is in KINDERGARTEN, and I’m simply not ready to just pull up by the curb, have him get out himself lugging all his stuff and walk away from us just yet. The kid gets a hug, ok? That’s all there is to it.
So now I park and we all get out and walk up to the gate together.
The boys are all about Star Wars now. We had A Very Star Wars Christmas.
We also had our entire yard dug up right around Thanksgiving because they were replacing all the gas lines in our neighborhood. Nothing like standing at the window watching dudes with dozers digging really, REALLY close to the two Magnolia trees that had huge bearing on our decision to buy this house in the first place. Yeah, these ones.
Oh! and speaking of Thanksgiving, we hosted it this year for the second time. And my kitchen sink got utterly clogged first thing that morning (peeling of the sweet potatoes, my fault, my fault) rendering it totally unusable. So I got to prepare Thanksgiving feast while stepping over my husband and my father and the huge pool of water in the middle of my kitchen floor and with no sink. I washed the turkey in the bathtub.
No, seriously. I did.
And I think I’ll leave you with that, for now (and hopefully not for three months).