The rule at the boys’ school is that if you are bringing valentines to school, you must give one to EVERYONE in the class. I like the rule. I also like to go through the cards with the boys, making sure they see and appreciate the time it took someone to make the card. New this year, quite a few students hand made their cards.
This one given to my six year old, Blake, is my favorite. I want to frame it.
For ease of reading, I will translate this for you, six year olds don’t always remember to write in straight lines.
To Black
Love Ceili
I love you
Happy Valentines Day
The inside? A sweet little heart with a “B” in it, and a pair of red kissy lips
This little note on the back of the card? That’s what took this cut-out heart from being cute, to being hilarious.
I was in the middle of telling my husband that his sister was a freaking genius* when I bashed my knee on the table this evening.
Even though a haze of pain was clouding my vision, and I was fighting to keep the contents of my stomach IN my stomach, I could not help but notice the distinct lack of sympathy from my husband. More to the point, the fact that he actually had the AUDACITY to wave his hand in a “Come on, get on with the story” motion as I writhed in pain.
I complained that he never cares when I get hurt, that he should have dropped everything, carried me to the couch and brought me an ice pack, becuase goddammit, I broke my fucking KNEE. Just so you know, I yelled that last bit. He just rolled his eyes and told me that I did not break my knee becuase breaking your knee is one of the most painful things EVER and I would be in too much pain to talk.
My reply was a simple “Fuck You! It is too broken”
So then. THEN he has the nerve to ask why I’m never concerned when he gets hurt.
Being the kind and generous person I am, even though we were supposed to be talking about ME and MY needs and MY sore knee, I answered his question, which really, had no impact on a conversation that was all about me and my pain and the fact that he should care that I got hurt!
I told him it’s ‘cus I don’t care.
Then we both cracked up laughing.
We are SO well matched it’s scary.
*Micah’s sister is a genius becuase she came up with an idea I had never thought of to get rid of a long winded phone caller. She rang the doorbell.
Over the weekend I helped Logan address the valentine cards he will be giving out on Friday. And by helped, I mean I did it becuase there is no way in hell I will sit for nineteen hours patiently helping him with his letters while he addresses eighteen cards. I’m not <em>that</em> kind of mom.
I also helped Blake address his cards. And by helped I mean I handed him a pencil, a box of cards and his class list.
Today after school, I helped Parker by reminding him his cards are in the dogs room and that he really should get to them sometime today.
Tonight, after the boys had gone to bed I was putzing in the kitchen and saw this, one set on the counter, one on the kitchen table:
Looks like I better help Logan do up two more cards, eh?
I spent the entire day laying on the couch, unable to move, becuase I am Very Ill.
I spent the entire day sitting in front of my laptop complaining to anyone who would listen that I feel like a rats ass, but refusing to do anything productive – like going to see a doctor- about it.
Further translation reveals that “entire day” refers to the time after I woke up from my five hour nap this morning.
Thankfully, Micah had the day off work and was able to take care of me and the children.
Upon awakening, Micah realized that he was unable to open his mouth becuase of the two wisdom teeth he had removed the night before and called in sick to work so he could take the day to rest and recuperate.
Further translation reveals that Instead of resting his very sore face, he too was forced to listen to me complain about being Deathly ill even though I refused to take his advice and see a doctor.
Sub Way Rocks Monkey Balls.
We had SubWay for Supper becuase I was Very Ill and did not want to cook.
Further translation reveals that SubWay Rocks Monkey balls
If my laptop gets ANY slower I’m going to need to install a toilet in the seat of my computer chair. FOUR minutes to load BPR. Facebook has timed out twice already – I am trying to log out of Micah’s facebook and into mine, but it keeps timing out in the log out phase so when I reload, it’s still in Micah’s name! HAET!
Speaking of Micah, he got two wisdom teeth removed tonight. He had been to a different dentist who told him the root wound up into his sinus cavity (??) and that it would be a very risky in hospital surgery to remove the teeth, and then promptly put him on a three year long waiting list. Instead, Micah wisely chose to visit my dentist who stuck him four times with a needle and popped them both out in less than a minute. Surprise surprise! Both wisdom teeth had nice straight roots. Nasal cavity my ASS! HAET!
Logan doesn’t have school on Mondays, so I don’t have to worry about dropping him off, nor picking him up after school. With the day’s schedule free and clear, I made plans to drive into the city to pick up a few things we had forgotten to buy this weekend (Does anyone know if My Step Mother ((not the evil variety)) likes White or chocolate cake best?) But I woke up to fog so thick I could not see across the street. HAET!
I did manage to score some great shots of the fog and the horfrost on the trees, so there were some redeeming moments of my day!
