everyday life

Around the bend

The reason the earth is round is so you can’t see too far down the road. – Isak Dinesen

To have courage for whatever comes in life – everything lies in that. – St. Theresa of Avila

The first step on the journey is to lose your way. – Galway Kinnell

That photo of the curving bench reminds me that we can only see so far. And that attempting to plan beyond this horizon – as I so desperately try – is a futile effort. Consider this a new effort at rolling with the punches; hearing my own daughter say that was like a reminder from the universe. Oh these unintentionally funny, occasionally annoying, endlessly entertaining children of mine can be wise!

Children of the internet era

Whit this morning:

“For Christmas, Mummy, I want my own ‘puter. And some other stuff too.”

(dream on, buddy)

Later, Whit confirmed that by “other stuff” he meant Star Wars stuff.

Grace yesterday:

“Mum, did you know there is American Girl Calm?”

“American Girl Calm? Is that like yoga American Girl? Meditating American Girl? Zen American Girl?”

puzzled look. “What?”

“What do you mean American Girl Calm?”

“You know, on the computer.”

“Oh! Americangirl.com! Dot com. Dot calm!”

A Day in Data

  • 3.5 – miles run at 6am
  • 75 – minutes spent on the runway at Logan before taking off
  • 10 – number of times the cell phone of the elderly woman sitting next to me rang (loudly) before she successfully picked it up
  • 18 – floor I erroneously got off on en route to my first meeting. Went into every office on the floor before realizing I was on the wrong floor
  • 28 – correct floor for first meeting.
  • 6 – number of visible lightning bolts viewed during first meeting from conference room window. Interestingly, identical to illustrations in the book I read to the children over breakfast this morning.
  • 2 – resume typos I obnoxiously pointed out to headhunters in said meeting
  • 14 – blocks walked in pouring rain between first and second meeting
  • 3 – jumbo sized bags of candy eaten today
  • 1 – 20 ounce Diet Coke all day (aren’t you proud?)
  • 34 – minutes elapsed from touching down at Logan and walking in the door of my house
  • 10 – minutes until I go to sleep

Sleepover countdown

Grace is sleeping over at Clemmie’s tomorrow night. She has been avidly counting down the days until the sleepover, which was postponed from the last Friday in April. She has a calendar at her desk and she crosses off a day every day. The other morning she asked me how many days until the sleepover?” (as, truth be told, she asks me every morning). She then looked at her calendar and I could almost see the smoke coming out of her ears as the little wheels turned. She looked at me, eyes wide, and said, “So, the sleepover is on May eighth?” Why, yes. That kind of comment by her still amazes me.

Yesterday we were driving home from a playdate and talking about, yes, the sleepover. She was musing about how she is going to pack Charlotte, her American Girl Doll, and all of her various accessories. By the way, this news was not a surprise to me.

Then I reminded her that this was not, in fact, her first sleepover.

“Don’t you remember, Gracie, that you slept at James’s house, actually two times, when you were five?”

“Oh, mummy, yes, I do. But that’s just because you forgot me.”

“What?”

“Yes, you forgot to come and get me. That’s okay. But I know that.”

Ummm … no. But I’m ready to pick up my gold medal any time now.

Exercise pants for all

As we know, Whit is deeply enamored of his exercise pants. Oh, my, is he hilarious. This afternoon I was in my office when Grace and Whit came storming upstairs. Grace was talking to me about her day when Whit came out of his room (wearing his very favorite shirt, from Gloria), a knot of blue knit fabric in his hand.

“Here, Gracie. These exercise pants are for you.” He said, proferring the item with the solemnity of someone offering the crown jewels.

“Whit, I don’t want your exercise pants.” Grace rolled her eyes at me.

“Grace, come on, he is being nice.” I broke in.

“But they won’t fit me!” She protested.

“You won’t know until you try,” I said, thinking of how every single pair of pants she has ever worn has slipped down her hips to reveal her butt crack. My daughter the plumber.

“They are really good for exercise!” Whit, always in sales mode, insisted.

“Grace, just try them on.” I urged her on.

So she did. And they did exercises, together, on the third floor landing.