I am all hopped up on hormones and a severe lack of fat, salt, and sugar, which has lead me to raid the tiny stash of ancient, wizened Halloween gummies. Trust me, this is not satisfying when what you really want is something deep-fried and smothered in chocolate.*
John has been pestering me to make brownies, but 1) I have been trying to work on a huge editing job, and 2) we don’t have enough butter. So sad. After 2 international vacations this summer, we are reduced to a state of brownie-less poverty. John actually has some money coming in, but we are still waiting on it. So annoying.
*Yes, I am shamelessly stealing a line from Shrek 2. That’s just how I roll around here.
***
I came down off the hormone high yesterday evening with a crash. Today I've been on a little more even keel. *whew!*
Saturday, September 20, 2008
Monday, September 15, 2008
Hannah, Temporary Cripple
Hannah’s first week of school was pretty hit or miss. We overslept the first day thanks to setting the alarm clock to 6 *PM* instead of AM, oopsie! The second day Hannah was in tears over the new note-taking training. On Friday during P.E., a kid kicked a ball that Hannah was making a mad dive for and drove it right into her hand, bending it backward. I ended up taking Hannah to the doctor, where she got her wrist wrapped up in a lovely hot pink bandage that she picked out herself. She made us sign it when we got home, then I had to help her make a sling out of a scarf, see?
The doctor had told us to go into the clinic for an x-ray if it was still hurting or swollen when the bandage came off over the weekend, but fortunately it was just a little sore and wrinkly from the bandage. That doesn’t mean that Hannah wasn’t going to milk it as much as possible: “Mom, would you get me a drink? I would, but my hand…”, said with the most pitiful crying clown puppy-dog eyes you ever saw. She also asked about how one would go about getting a handicapped parking permit. Well, first, you have to be handicapped. See how that works?
Of course, her "injury" didn’t stop her from playing with Legos all day on Sunday.
Then she wanted a note for P.E. today, which I was cool with, because I don’t want her re-injuring it just 2 days after we were at the doctor’s, but she seemed disappointed that I worded it so it only applied to sports. After she left for school with her note bitterly clutched in her hand, John said, “Why doesn’t she laminate it?”* Oh, the hilarity that ensued at our dear child’s expense.
Afterward, John confessed that that line came from Heaven Help Us. For some reason, I can never remember the name of that movie (even after typing it here and not 2 minutes later trying to look it up on the Internet Movie DataBase *grr*), or the word “fiberglass.” I can tell you who is in the movie and the general plot, and I can tell you about the composition and uses of fiberglass—tactics that usually allow me to associate my way to things I’ve forgotten—but there are apparently 2 big holes in my brain in the shape of those names. *sigh*
The doctor had told us to go into the clinic for an x-ray if it was still hurting or swollen when the bandage came off over the weekend, but fortunately it was just a little sore and wrinkly from the bandage. That doesn’t mean that Hannah wasn’t going to milk it as much as possible: “Mom, would you get me a drink? I would, but my hand…”, said with the most pitiful crying clown puppy-dog eyes you ever saw. She also asked about how one would go about getting a handicapped parking permit. Well, first, you have to be handicapped. See how that works?
Of course, her "injury" didn’t stop her from playing with Legos all day on Sunday.
Then she wanted a note for P.E. today, which I was cool with, because I don’t want her re-injuring it just 2 days after we were at the doctor’s, but she seemed disappointed that I worded it so it only applied to sports. After she left for school with her note bitterly clutched in her hand, John said, “Why doesn’t she laminate it?”* Oh, the hilarity that ensued at our dear child’s expense.
Afterward, John confessed that that line came from Heaven Help Us. For some reason, I can never remember the name of that movie (even after typing it here and not 2 minutes later trying to look it up on the Internet Movie DataBase *grr*), or the word “fiberglass.” I can tell you who is in the movie and the general plot, and I can tell you about the composition and uses of fiberglass—tactics that usually allow me to associate my way to things I’ve forgotten—but there are apparently 2 big holes in my brain in the shape of those names. *sigh*
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