Monday, July 27, 2015

This week in Mim

She has flooded all three floors, painted the deck with sunscreen, and cut up a cold pack and smeared all the gel on herself.

She's for sale. Cheap.

Friday, July 24, 2015

Unrelentingly busy

It feels like we've been all over the city this week, although we've only really walked part of it. Farmer's market and library, visiting Dad, spending hours at a splash pad.



Lots and lots of exploring. It's been fun, but I'm tired. We've got a Geoff-working Saturday tomorrow, and today I think we'll go to a local park or schoolyard for a bit, and then putter at home doing chores. ETA: Nope. I have just looked at the mess children have made of their beds, and so we are off to Scarborough Town Centre on the TTC for waterproof sheets. Pray for me.

We acquired a new pet, courtesy of Cynthia. I named him George, and the children are solicitous of his health. They are so caring that I have stuck him up on a high shelf to protect him from their loving care. We're waiting for his/her transformation into a chrysalis. 


Wet, sandy, happy children. Children covered in sunlight and heat and general summer craziness.

The formal academics have slowed way down. Nat is still doing his math, and he's reading, and we're working on The Silver Chair, with Thomas paying intermittent attention. Thomas fell in love with Reepicheep when we watched the (Terrible) Prince Caspian movie, and so payed pretty close attention to lots of Dawn Treader. It's pretty difficult defining knightly honour for small children.  

Same small children are now vociferously demanding attention.

Friday, July 17, 2015

Sadness

Yesterday we went to the zoo again (I've decided that the summer is for field trips. It's harder to sit and read and do table work right now. We'll get to it. Winter is coming. damn it) and when we got back a good friend came over. Geoff was home briefly and then out to the dojo, but Reg was still here when I heard that Geoff's godfather, Hamish, had died in the afternoon. His godparents are funny and intelligent and fun, and they were some of the people that showed me being an adult didn't have to mean being boring or no longer playing- together, they were artist/drummer/singer/weaver/photographer/book lover/good cooks, and interested in everything. That's a great quality, being interested in everything. And it was formative for me. I met them when I was about fourteen. Christine said last night on the phone that she'll follow my lead, and do a small memorial for Hamish. And then said, "It's interesting that you've already done this recently. But it makes sense. You've always been so much more mature than me."

Darling Christine. We went to talk to them about marriage just before we were married, and Hamish said forcefully, "Why did the church send you to US about marriage? We're an awful example!"



I'm sitting around today, thinking of Hamish, and I'm going to do some chores and console Elizabeth, who is upset that we didn't bring the giraffes home from the zoo. She's telling me that I am going to bake a chocolate cake. Maybe I will. Maybe I'll bake two, and take one over to Christine's, and see if she needs any help.

I hope Hamish and Terry Pratchett are arguing amicably together in Heaven.

Lord, let now Thy servant depart in peace, according to thy word.

Saturday, July 11, 2015

A hike

I had a not great night last night, and Mim woke me up at six, but I promised them we'd hike in Taylor Creek today, so I hauled everyone out of the house before it got too hot, and headed out on what turned out to be a long, LONG, very hot hike. Carrying Miriam for at least one hour. Uphill.

This doesn't convey the steepness
So I walked in the hot sun for about three hours, but we saw lots of plans, and the kids got quite a bit of exercise. Someone we passed said there were rabbits around, so all my children started screaming, "Bunnies! Here bunnies! HERE BUNNIES!"

Very surprisingly, we didn't see any wildlife at all.
I'm sure it will work next time. The kids were also really worried about a Lost Dog sign, and spent most of the hike barking furiously in an attempt to call the dog. That also failed. Very sad.

I spent the rest of today basically prone and drinking icewater, but I'm very grateful I did it. I just have to figure out how to make them all that tired without me needing to exert myself, and I'll be all set.


Heredity

When I went up to tuck Nat in last night, he had three books in bed with him. Geoff will be horrified, and I am pleased. Sleeping with books is hereditary.

He was reading Minecraft for Dummies and two very nice books I got at the museum- Alphabeasts and Monkey Business.

It almost makes it okay that he didn't go to sleep until about eleven.

Thursday, July 09, 2015

Yesterday and today

Yesterday we went to the zoo, and it was glorious.
Inherited their parents' map reading skills. We got lost.
Until the end, when Miriam took off and lost one of her annoyingly good and expensive sandals. But aside from that, really good.

Apropos of that, I think it's kind of funny that the zoo put all these glorious big rocks all over, and then put up all these big signs saying "Stay Off The Rocks!!". I know it's because of liability, but it's really setting up for failure. It reminds me a lot of the Life Size Easter Bunny. Don't touch, kids! It's just something hella fun!

So it was great, and now I've done the zoo solo with all four children plus two and a half hour transit ride to get there and back. I am mighty and stuff. Because I was out all yesterday, that makes today Enjoy Netflix, Kids! day. For I must, with mourning and weeping, fold six or seven loads of laundry, organize the kitchen, and clean out the livingroom before it it makes me mental. I also have to stand over the boys with a horsewhip and make them pick up their toys, and remind Thomas every minutes that there is a specific place for laundry, when he invariably forgets. Over and over.

But it's a nice, rainy day, good for relative quiet and lots of inside activity. So once I've had my third cup of tea and woken up, I will definitely start.

Tuesday, July 07, 2015

Planning for a trip

I'm making a mental list of all the things to prep for tomorrow's zoo trip. It's miserable today- hot and rainy and awful- but tomorrow will be cool and sunny and perfect. So I am going to haul my whiny children out of bed early, force them into their clothes, and take them off on a trip. On the glorious, hour-long bus ride. Yay.

So I need food and clothes and everything all prepared today, so tomorrow morning I can leave knowing that I've probably only forgotten two or three essential things. Such a relief. I have to make peanut butter sandwiches and I have peanut butter balls already made, and chop carrots and cucumber in the vain hope the kids will touch a vegetable while we're out. I'll fill water bottles and freeze them, repack all the band-aids in my purse, and make sure I eat a very protein heavy breakfast, because I know from bitter experience that cheerios before a trip make me into an evil whiny toddler by about ten. Plus sunscreen and pull ups and a Very Cheerful Attitude, which will last almost half an hour into the actual zoo trip. So we can return tired and sunburned and tired, and come home and flop on the couch.

Sunday, July 05, 2015

Not a lot of energy

I feel like I'm pretty low-energy right now, although Geoff incredulously points out that 'low energy' means, 'took the kids to the beach for four hours'. But still. When I'm at home I'm dragging myself around.

Still, this morning I woke at six, and after lying on the couch for a bit, I made tea and cleared out the fridge and the upstairs freezer, muttering meal plans under my breath. Right now the future looks bright for spaghetti and shepherd's pie. And now I'm sitting at the computer looking at the wreck of the living room and diningroom, and thinking about how I have no real desire to cook meals, and want People Chow out of a bin. Geoff and I were talking about a pretzel dispenser. If we set it up next to the couch we could just stream movies 12 hours a day, and the kids wouldn't even have to get up!

The no cook thing is partly because I am still waiting on more dental surgery, and so eating is possible but uncomfortable. Still, I am always searching, interiorly, for the large batch cooking which will remove the need to cook ever again, pandering to my acedia, and condemning us to unending batches of something like rice pudding. Which reminds me, I promised to make Nat rice pudding.

Can I just go get five or six large boxes of butter chicken, and we can live off it till my will to live returns?