Yesterday was a momentous occasion for our clan. We had a to-the-city field trip, with Zorak, and no stress! It was lovely. Zorak has agreed that he will go with us, if I don't include him in the planning process, which I can appreciate. He spends his days at work making decisions, developing plans, and troubleshooting. When it comes to time with his family, he would like to be allowed to just come and enjoy the boys. OK.
This is only a problem because I am "the idea guy". I don't do execution well. But that's ok. Sometimes you've got to step outside your comfort zone and grow, right?
I learned a few things on this trip:
1- Mapquest LIES! You cannot get home using their directions. Or, at least, not to our home. I thought, the first two times I found myself painfully lost, that I had somehow not followed the directions. Yesterday, I had an engineer with me to verify the results, and no, it turns out that I was doing everything as directed, but the road Mapquest tells you to take ENDS, promptly and without much warning.
2- It's okay to be painfully lost if you've been there before. And it's a funny feeling to look around and say, "Oh! We're lost! Wait, it's ok! I know how to get out of from here!"
3- Zorak isn't any more comfortable with me heading into the Cities without him. This may be due to my absolute lack of fear of being lost. (You do get desensitized after a while...)
4- The volunteers at the Museum of Natural History know what little boys want to see. Little boys want to see Dinosaurs!
5- When you have been gripped by shyness and can't bring yourself to ask for the dinosaurs, it's pretty amazing to have a total stranger lean over, look you in the eye, and tell you exactly what you wanted to know!
6- Museums are so much fun with children when you let the children take the lead. You won't see everything. You won't see half of what you hoped to see. But what you see will be more fulfilling and enjoyable than anything else.
7- Even an 18 month-old baby can hang with the big boys if you're going at the children's pace. He may pass out before you pull out of your parking spot when you leave, but he can hang.
8- Go ahead and eat at one of the painfully expensive restaurants downtown before you go in. It will cost the same as eating at the McDonald's in one of the museums, but the food, atmosphere and service will be much better.
9- DC is a great visit to make when the weather is really, really bad. Parking is great and the streets are almost empty. This makes for a wonderful trip if you're not big on the whole "city-crowd" thing.
Anyhow, we had a lovely time. The boys were in heaven. Zorak and I glided along, holding hands, grinning at the boys, enjoying the day.
Today, *sniff, sniff* Smidge's crib comes down and we're putting up the toddler bed. This was wholly Zorak's idea (he doesn't want to move the crib, and would like Smidge to have a chance to get accustomed to the new bed before we turn everything upside down). I can see the logic. I can appreciate the logic. That doesn't mean I'm ready to be logical. *wink*
Kiss those babies!
Dy
Sunday, April 3
Thursday, March 31
The Upswing of the Cycle
I know that life is cyclical, as are emotions, hormones, and circumstances. I am also well aware that these factors impact how well everyone in a specific environment will mesh. When I think of the five very distinct personalities in our home, I'm often amazed that there's as much peace as there is.
So when it comes, I cherish it. When it comes in wave after wave, as it has lately, I just let it wash over me and coat me in a protective layer of joy to keep with me on the ebbing of the tide.
We ran errands and then took a walk through the woods. The boys protected me from "Wild Beasts". Granted, I could see one building just ahead and the building from which we'd left, looming behind us, but that didn't matter to them. No, sir, this is prime Wild Beast territory! Just ask the boys. (They did a fine job and we returned unscathed! My Heroes!)
We bought sketch pads for the boys today at Bay Books. I can't afford to shop there often, but try to shop there when I can, simply because the folks there are wonderful. They're nice to my kids, and they'll order things for us without making me cough up a kidney as a deposit. They aren't a chain, and while I do think chains and franchises are wonderful things, I also like the local shops. I don't mind paying more at a local shop when it provides the service, attention, and personalized care for which it is supposed to be superior to the larger stores. It's seldom that I find such service, but when I do, I return as often as I can. At Bay Books, it's worth the extra money. We bought a few bookplates for the scads of books we picked up at the library sale (85 at last count, and it's driving James nutty wondering which library books are ours and which need to go back, hence, the bookplates), and a couple of Dover Thrift books (because there's just no excuse for passing up an unabridged version of something wonderful for under $4!)
We played and read, we snuggled and talked. We enjoyed a splendid lunch together at Taco Bell (I love our Taco Bell! Not only is it the only decent Mexican food in the county, but they'll make the Mexican Pizza out of corn tortillas for John. I love them!)
Now, I had a very pastoral, 1950's style homecoming prepared for Zorak. He's been slaying dragons all day, and I've been, well, wallowing in my wonderful, incredible life. So, fresh coffee brewed and ready? Check. Mutton roasting in the oven long enough to make the house smell yummy? Check! House tidy and welcoming? Check. Clean undies folded and put away? Check. The boys were playing out back, in the mud, and I had just planned to bring them in, wash them, put them in soft, fuzzy sweats and be snuggled on the couch, reading them something exciting when he arrived. Check? Uh, no.
Not even close.
When he got home, John was running about upstairs, partially ready for a bath. James was covered head-to-toe (including his head under the hood of his sweatshirt) in mud and clay, trying to undress inside on the white carpet. I was nudging him back with my knee, wrangling a large pile of mud off of the baby. The baby was screaming violently, and had gone Vietnam-protestor-limp. He did not want to come in yet. I had no idea Zorak was due home just then, and was laughing myself silly trying to get the situation sorted out. (It was, really, quite funny. You know, in a "had to be there" kind of way.) When what do you know, the door opens and there is my Dragon-Slayer. *sigh*
It was another 15 minutes before we could get enough mud out of the way to reach one another for a welcome home kiss. Poor guy. But at least the house smelled yummy!
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
So when it comes, I cherish it. When it comes in wave after wave, as it has lately, I just let it wash over me and coat me in a protective layer of joy to keep with me on the ebbing of the tide.
We ran errands and then took a walk through the woods. The boys protected me from "Wild Beasts". Granted, I could see one building just ahead and the building from which we'd left, looming behind us, but that didn't matter to them. No, sir, this is prime Wild Beast territory! Just ask the boys. (They did a fine job and we returned unscathed! My Heroes!)
We bought sketch pads for the boys today at Bay Books. I can't afford to shop there often, but try to shop there when I can, simply because the folks there are wonderful. They're nice to my kids, and they'll order things for us without making me cough up a kidney as a deposit. They aren't a chain, and while I do think chains and franchises are wonderful things, I also like the local shops. I don't mind paying more at a local shop when it provides the service, attention, and personalized care for which it is supposed to be superior to the larger stores. It's seldom that I find such service, but when I do, I return as often as I can. At Bay Books, it's worth the extra money. We bought a few bookplates for the scads of books we picked up at the library sale (85 at last count, and it's driving James nutty wondering which library books are ours and which need to go back, hence, the bookplates), and a couple of Dover Thrift books (because there's just no excuse for passing up an unabridged version of something wonderful for under $4!)
We played and read, we snuggled and talked. We enjoyed a splendid lunch together at Taco Bell (I love our Taco Bell! Not only is it the only decent Mexican food in the county, but they'll make the Mexican Pizza out of corn tortillas for John. I love them!)
Now, I had a very pastoral, 1950's style homecoming prepared for Zorak. He's been slaying dragons all day, and I've been, well, wallowing in my wonderful, incredible life. So, fresh coffee brewed and ready? Check. Mutton roasting in the oven long enough to make the house smell yummy? Check! House tidy and welcoming? Check. Clean undies folded and put away? Check. The boys were playing out back, in the mud, and I had just planned to bring them in, wash them, put them in soft, fuzzy sweats and be snuggled on the couch, reading them something exciting when he arrived. Check? Uh, no.
Not even close.
When he got home, John was running about upstairs, partially ready for a bath. James was covered head-to-toe (including his head under the hood of his sweatshirt) in mud and clay, trying to undress inside on the white carpet. I was nudging him back with my knee, wrangling a large pile of mud off of the baby. The baby was screaming violently, and had gone Vietnam-protestor-limp. He did not want to come in yet. I had no idea Zorak was due home just then, and was laughing myself silly trying to get the situation sorted out. (It was, really, quite funny. You know, in a "had to be there" kind of way.) When what do you know, the door opens and there is my Dragon-Slayer. *sigh*
It was another 15 minutes before we could get enough mud out of the way to reach one another for a welcome home kiss. Poor guy. But at least the house smelled yummy!
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Wednesday, March 30
Depressing Book, Great Read
The Language Police, by Diane Ravitch. I know there are perhaps ten other people out there who haven't yet read this book. You must rectify that situation shortly. This book is well-written, and while she does have a certain personal bias which comes through, it's faint. She does a very good job of showing how both sides of the political spectrum have sacrificed our children's educational quality in a wrestling match for control of the children's minds. Egads. What a scary bit of knowledge.
Read, read, read. Whether you like it. Or agree with it. Or enjoy it. Or not. Read all you can and infuse your mind with all the knowledge you can possibly absorb. Then start the process of sorting and sifting, of making judgements and mulling over. Then, since you'll have more room (and an ever-improving filing system) read some more!
Don't let the world of learning become a lethargic exercize in uselessness in your home, or for your children!
And while you're reading to those babies, give 'em kisses!
~Dy
Read, read, read. Whether you like it. Or agree with it. Or enjoy it. Or not. Read all you can and infuse your mind with all the knowledge you can possibly absorb. Then start the process of sorting and sifting, of making judgements and mulling over. Then, since you'll have more room (and an ever-improving filing system) read some more!
Don't let the world of learning become a lethargic exercize in uselessness in your home, or for your children!
And while you're reading to those babies, give 'em kisses!
~Dy
Divers, the adjective
The unseen dangers of reading "too much"...
You know you're reading far too much historical fiction and biography, circa 1800's, when you automatically say, "diverse" when you read "divers".
Dy
*Note: as if there's such a thing as reading "too much"!
You know you're reading far too much historical fiction and biography, circa 1800's, when you automatically say, "diverse" when you read "divers".
Dy
*Note: as if there's such a thing as reading "too much"!
Tuesday, March 29
Happy Easter!
Well, it's difficult to get good pictures of my children. Most are taken as the children fly past us, always in motion. To be honest, most look like this:
We can, on occasion (thanks to the agility of highspeed photography!) catch one like this:
When we herd them together and cause them to be still, their constant activity is still evident in their creative poses...
Or when something else catches their attention...
James is trying his best not to make a silly face in this picture, and Jacob has learned to say "cheese". As you can see, it's a very Elvis-like smile.
And this is, perhaps, my favorite picture of the weekend. Did anyone see The War of the Buttons? This picture just screams Little Irish Lad, to me. I love it.
So, until we can get the glitches figured out, these are the only pictures we have. The rest, between the red rimmed eyes and the green skin, look like stills from B-grade horror flicks.
Happy Easter! And thank you for sharing it, both by coming here and letting me share our family, and by sharing yours, too.
Kiss those babies!
Dy
Monday, March 28
How do y'all do it?
Everyone had lovely, wonderful Easter pictures posted on their blogs! They are such fun to see! But, but, y'all did this LAST NIGHT. As in THE SAME DAY.
???
I get excited if I can get photos edited and uploaded before the boys have outgrown the outfits they wore in the pictures!
Wow, well, there's the goal for today- I'll try to get pictures uploaded. I owe Em and Melissa some, too, you know, from a month ago. *cringe* Sorry 'bout that. And in the meantime, thanks so much for sharing your families with all your invisible friends. It's such fun!
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
???
I get excited if I can get photos edited and uploaded before the boys have outgrown the outfits they wore in the pictures!
Wow, well, there's the goal for today- I'll try to get pictures uploaded. I owe Em and Melissa some, too, you know, from a month ago. *cringe* Sorry 'bout that. And in the meantime, thanks so much for sharing your families with all your invisible friends. It's such fun!
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Saturday, March 26
Truly Lovely
My brother, having survived some harrowing experiences in the military, holds to the belief that "any day above ground is a good one". While that's a little on the morbid side for me (of course, I haven't eaten the things he's eaten just to stay alive, either, so "morbid" is, I know, wholly subjective, here), I'd agree.
Some days, though, are truly lovely. Their feel is different, richer, deeper, more vibrant, than other days. They are days that leave a delicate shade of difference on your heart and on your soul.
Today was one of those days. I've typed and re-typed, trying to wrap my mind around the day so I can share it with you, but my meager vocabulary fails me tonight. The boys were so thoroughly enjoyable. Zorak was so very "in" the day, with us, near us. I felt the tangible expression today of all I feel for my family every day, and it was a powerful, comforting day.
The HOA Easter Egg hunt was a stunning success. There were, perhaps, a dozen children. As the children gathered in the commons, one little girl noticed that the boys had Easter grass. She said, quietly, and not to anyone in particular, "I don't have grass." Without prompting from us, John pulled out a handful of his grass to give to her. He looked at us. Zorak and I smiled and nodded. "Here," he said quietly, as he gently laid some grass in her basket. Such a generous heart he has! We were both so warmed by this. During the hunt, John found perhaps six eggs. He wasn't firing on all four cylinders (translation: needed a nap), and wasn't terribly focused. Can't say it wasn't for effort, though. That kid ran around like a madman, running right past countless eggs, but very caught up in the whole running aspect of it. When all the eggs has been found, and his basket was so very empty compared to the other children, we cringed in anticipation of the meltdown we knew would come. ...it never came! He took it all in stride, congratulated the other children on finding so many eggs, and then (as if he was trying to make me cry), he offered to share his eggs with the adults once he heard the Easter Bunny doesn't bring baskets for grown-ups. Now, don't think that, at four (and a half!), he has this kind of self-restraint all the time. He doesn't. At 31 (erm, and a half...), I don't, either. But he's learning grace and fellowship and joy. Wow. Talk about humbling.
James got to be "the big kid" today, which is new for him. He is generally among the younger of the group. He voluntarily joined John in sharing his grass with the little girl, and he encouraged the little guys as they went around in circles, laughing. As we watched him help John look for eggs and direct the littlun's to the eggs down low, Zorak and I realized (well, were reminded, is a better expression) that James is just a Very Neat Kid. He laid a few of his own eggs into John's basket ~ a sweet, quiet moment when they thought the adults weren't looking. He's six and squirrelly as can be, yes, but he has a heart the size of Texas and possibly the surrounding Territories, as well. It's vulnerable, and gets bruised quite easily, but he doesn't let that stop him from caring and helping. He's teaching us a lot as we go along.
And Smidge? Smidge just had a beautiful day. First, he got a basket to carry around and swing about. WOOHOO, FUN STUFF! Then we put plastic strings in it! OH JOY! But, look! What's this? What are these colorful things on the ground? Ooo, put them in the stringy basket! This is GREAT, GUYS! But wait! There's more! They rattle! ~ OMGosh, they OPEN! At this point, we became concerned that he'd have a seizure or possibly an aneurysm. I don't think we've ever seen him so enthralled with a process.
Tomorrow, along with many other families around the world, we will gather together to celebrate the resurrection of our Lord. The boys look forward to tomorrow with the same excitement that they enjoyed today. We'll spend time with our wonderful congregation and then retire home for a Mediterranean-style feast and a time of sharing our blessings and our hopes for tomorrow. It will be a time well spent.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Some days, though, are truly lovely. Their feel is different, richer, deeper, more vibrant, than other days. They are days that leave a delicate shade of difference on your heart and on your soul.
Today was one of those days. I've typed and re-typed, trying to wrap my mind around the day so I can share it with you, but my meager vocabulary fails me tonight. The boys were so thoroughly enjoyable. Zorak was so very "in" the day, with us, near us. I felt the tangible expression today of all I feel for my family every day, and it was a powerful, comforting day.
The HOA Easter Egg hunt was a stunning success. There were, perhaps, a dozen children. As the children gathered in the commons, one little girl noticed that the boys had Easter grass. She said, quietly, and not to anyone in particular, "I don't have grass." Without prompting from us, John pulled out a handful of his grass to give to her. He looked at us. Zorak and I smiled and nodded. "Here," he said quietly, as he gently laid some grass in her basket. Such a generous heart he has! We were both so warmed by this. During the hunt, John found perhaps six eggs. He wasn't firing on all four cylinders (translation: needed a nap), and wasn't terribly focused. Can't say it wasn't for effort, though. That kid ran around like a madman, running right past countless eggs, but very caught up in the whole running aspect of it. When all the eggs has been found, and his basket was so very empty compared to the other children, we cringed in anticipation of the meltdown we knew would come. ...it never came! He took it all in stride, congratulated the other children on finding so many eggs, and then (as if he was trying to make me cry), he offered to share his eggs with the adults once he heard the Easter Bunny doesn't bring baskets for grown-ups. Now, don't think that, at four (and a half!), he has this kind of self-restraint all the time. He doesn't. At 31 (erm, and a half...), I don't, either. But he's learning grace and fellowship and joy. Wow. Talk about humbling.
James got to be "the big kid" today, which is new for him. He is generally among the younger of the group. He voluntarily joined John in sharing his grass with the little girl, and he encouraged the little guys as they went around in circles, laughing. As we watched him help John look for eggs and direct the littlun's to the eggs down low, Zorak and I realized (well, were reminded, is a better expression) that James is just a Very Neat Kid. He laid a few of his own eggs into John's basket ~ a sweet, quiet moment when they thought the adults weren't looking. He's six and squirrelly as can be, yes, but he has a heart the size of Texas and possibly the surrounding Territories, as well. It's vulnerable, and gets bruised quite easily, but he doesn't let that stop him from caring and helping. He's teaching us a lot as we go along.
And Smidge? Smidge just had a beautiful day. First, he got a basket to carry around and swing about. WOOHOO, FUN STUFF! Then we put plastic strings in it! OH JOY! But, look! What's this? What are these colorful things on the ground? Ooo, put them in the stringy basket! This is GREAT, GUYS! But wait! There's more! They rattle! ~ OMGosh, they OPEN! At this point, we became concerned that he'd have a seizure or possibly an aneurysm. I don't think we've ever seen him so enthralled with a process.
Tomorrow, along with many other families around the world, we will gather together to celebrate the resurrection of our Lord. The boys look forward to tomorrow with the same excitement that they enjoyed today. We'll spend time with our wonderful congregation and then retire home for a Mediterranean-style feast and a time of sharing our blessings and our hopes for tomorrow. It will be a time well spent.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Friday, March 25
Because They Dared Ask,
"What if..."
What a wonderful gift to the world that there have always been men and women standing at the ready, unconcerned about looking the fool, or the eccentric, willing to ask, "What if...?"
We pushed back bathtime tonight for that very reason, and had one whompin' great discussion with the boys. It was about many things: the value of being willing to follow your questions, the importance of being able to keep going, the strength in adaptability and the willingness to accept new evidence, the fantasies of yesterday which are the truths of today, and what tomorrow may hold for them. In short, it was about the wonderful world possible as long as the next generation is willing to take stock of what we know and then ask, loud and clear, "What if...?"
It all started with a discussion of Absolute Zero (guess who started that one!), which brought us into the model aspect of mathematics, language, fish, The Universe, and Everything. The main point tonight centered on the mind - as encompassed by curiosity, ability, motivation, and imagination - and how it reaches farther than the boundaries of the physical world allow. Or, as James paraphrased, "Our brains can think of going places beyond our Playplace in the Universe." Yup.
On to pattern recognition, theories, proofs and suddenly (as everyone with a child who is six or four knows), you're landing on Mars, curing diseases, and saving the world - one splendid idea at a time. The boys headed up the stairs, trying to figure ways to get oxygen to Mars and convert methane to a fuel vehicles can run on. They're jazzed. It's all possible, and they could do it.
Our children can do anything. They can make a difference, and we try to keep positive ideals and noble goals in front of them. If you read the news, or listen to the talking heads, you're going to get a dreary picture of the future. If you talk to your children, you can help shape that future. The news is much more encouraging on that front. And you know, the more wonderful families I come in contact with, the more convinced I am that we aren't far from the norm. Don't let naysayers make you feel elitist or inadequate. Just smile and say, "What if...?"
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
What a wonderful gift to the world that there have always been men and women standing at the ready, unconcerned about looking the fool, or the eccentric, willing to ask, "What if...?"
We pushed back bathtime tonight for that very reason, and had one whompin' great discussion with the boys. It was about many things: the value of being willing to follow your questions, the importance of being able to keep going, the strength in adaptability and the willingness to accept new evidence, the fantasies of yesterday which are the truths of today, and what tomorrow may hold for them. In short, it was about the wonderful world possible as long as the next generation is willing to take stock of what we know and then ask, loud and clear, "What if...?"
It all started with a discussion of Absolute Zero (guess who started that one!), which brought us into the model aspect of mathematics, language, fish, The Universe, and Everything. The main point tonight centered on the mind - as encompassed by curiosity, ability, motivation, and imagination - and how it reaches farther than the boundaries of the physical world allow. Or, as James paraphrased, "Our brains can think of going places beyond our Playplace in the Universe." Yup.
On to pattern recognition, theories, proofs and suddenly (as everyone with a child who is six or four knows), you're landing on Mars, curing diseases, and saving the world - one splendid idea at a time. The boys headed up the stairs, trying to figure ways to get oxygen to Mars and convert methane to a fuel vehicles can run on. They're jazzed. It's all possible, and they could do it.
Our children can do anything. They can make a difference, and we try to keep positive ideals and noble goals in front of them. If you read the news, or listen to the talking heads, you're going to get a dreary picture of the future. If you talk to your children, you can help shape that future. The news is much more encouraging on that front. And you know, the more wonderful families I come in contact with, the more convinced I am that we aren't far from the norm. Don't let naysayers make you feel elitist or inadequate. Just smile and say, "What if...?"
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Good Friday Morning!
A little morning blog just because I'm feeling particularly motivated. (lucky you, eh?)
What are you reading these days? James has decided he'd rather not tell me about what he's reading, as he thinks that'll discourage me from reading the book myself. Hmmm. OK. Well, Kiddo, this is going to call for drastic measures... so I have to completely mangle the story as I narrate to him, leaving him in stitches and correcting all my bizarre inventions. It is, really, a great way to see if your child grasped what he read. (It's also just a lot of fun!)
If we can find some Mommy 'n James time, I'd like to start reading The Eagle of the Ninth, by Rosemary Sutcliff, together. It's not quite on a level where John would enjoy it so much, but I do think James would enjoy it tremendously if we read it together, the way we read The Hobbit. The difficult part is finding time alone to read together. Who'd have thought that would be one of the big "issues" in a home?
Seriously, it is. I don't know about you guys, but there's no way I'm going to tell any child that he can't read with us, can't be a part of that effervescent magic that comes of reading together on quiet nights. I'm not going to deny him the mystery of pure imagination as it comes to life on each page. Just not gonna happen. Literature is too precious a gift to refuse to someone on the premise that he "might not get it". If he enjoys it and craves it, then he'll benefit from it, even if it goes straight over his head. The time spent together, sharing something delicious is a worthy endeavor. So, if John wants to read with us, then naturally, we'll do it together. But I do need to find a way to make room for that equally magical "one on one" time that James, in particular, craves with all he has.
Today's our day off, but seeing that we all have a pretty nasty dose of cabin fever and no transportation, I think we may do light lessons, just to offer up a little routine to the day. Like an extra day of math is going to kill 'em, anyway, right? Then maybe a walk out back to look for nests. We'll bake a little banana rice bread later on this morning and hopefully Zorak will bring us the Suburban at lunch so we can head over the Big, Scary Bridge to do some shopping and go stare at the otters.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
What are you reading these days? James has decided he'd rather not tell me about what he's reading, as he thinks that'll discourage me from reading the book myself. Hmmm. OK. Well, Kiddo, this is going to call for drastic measures... so I have to completely mangle the story as I narrate to him, leaving him in stitches and correcting all my bizarre inventions. It is, really, a great way to see if your child grasped what he read. (It's also just a lot of fun!)
If we can find some Mommy 'n James time, I'd like to start reading The Eagle of the Ninth, by Rosemary Sutcliff, together. It's not quite on a level where John would enjoy it so much, but I do think James would enjoy it tremendously if we read it together, the way we read The Hobbit. The difficult part is finding time alone to read together. Who'd have thought that would be one of the big "issues" in a home?
Seriously, it is. I don't know about you guys, but there's no way I'm going to tell any child that he can't read with us, can't be a part of that effervescent magic that comes of reading together on quiet nights. I'm not going to deny him the mystery of pure imagination as it comes to life on each page. Just not gonna happen. Literature is too precious a gift to refuse to someone on the premise that he "might not get it". If he enjoys it and craves it, then he'll benefit from it, even if it goes straight over his head. The time spent together, sharing something delicious is a worthy endeavor. So, if John wants to read with us, then naturally, we'll do it together. But I do need to find a way to make room for that equally magical "one on one" time that James, in particular, craves with all he has.
Today's our day off, but seeing that we all have a pretty nasty dose of cabin fever and no transportation, I think we may do light lessons, just to offer up a little routine to the day. Like an extra day of math is going to kill 'em, anyway, right? Then maybe a walk out back to look for nests. We'll bake a little banana rice bread later on this morning and hopefully Zorak will bring us the Suburban at lunch so we can head over the Big, Scary Bridge to do some shopping and go stare at the otters.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
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