Thursday, April 23, 2015

Five minutes

It's morning, and I have probably five minutes between me sitting down at this computer to write something and the moment when several children come whining in for breakfast. What I should be doing instead of writing is organizing the fridge or something, because it is mysteriously full of food and yet also empty of anything I think I can assemble into a meal.

Well, probably I could make something. It's just that all I want now is poutine. Yes, I know it's seven-thirty. The desire for fries and cheese and gravy is not influenced by the clock.

Yesterday school didn't happen much, except for Thomas doing his phonics and letter writing, and Nat reading an entire chapter book!!! Wait. I guess school DID happen. That's great. Up until this moment I thought I spent yesterday being useless, walking into walls, and snapping at people.
Today will be full of me actually putting the laundry away, math, and grappling with the idea that Elizabeth can count. She told me last night she wanted three marshmallows as a reward for sleeping through the night, because three is more than two. Yes, I've been bribing them. It's worked brilliantly. But I'm not ready for her to start bargaining and being able to count.

And now I hear Miriam wailing the wails of someone who can't remember she has her very own feet and can walk downstairs on her very own, so I will go get her and plunge in to the day.

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