JuliaKB wrote a great comment a few weeks ago. She told the story of a man who found himself overwhelmed by too much family living in too small of a space, so his rabbi suggested that he get a goat. After a few weeks the rabbi advised him to get rid of the goat and the relief was enormous. I feel exactly like that man right now; only in my case the goat didn't leave, he just started being able to unload the dishwasher.
Steve's knee has improved to the point that he can move from A to B without assistance, although usually he uses one crutch for balance. I keep clasping my hands together when he hobbles into the room, piping, "God bless us, every one!" Steve, as I frequently remind him, is lucky to live with this rapier-like wit of mine. Between his return to the living and the babies' - oh my god, my perfect amazing easy easy wonder babies; what did I ever do to deserve Caroline and Edward who both slept until 6 this morning and are so cute that they could pass for a basket full of kittens- emergent schedule, I am feeling more human than I have in months.
-- Since it takes me about a week to write a post - typing, as I do, at six letter intervals - I started this before breakfast and it is now after dinner. I emerged from Caroline's room a few minutes ago (these babies? you feed them and they fall asleep and then you just... leave - it's like their evolutionary history and that of the Infant Patrick diverged at the phylum level) and ran into Patrick who was in the process of being put to bed. Patrick, who is not much given to physical displays of affection, startled me greatly by flinging his arms around me and saying, "I love you, Mommy."
I admit that I got a little misty at this unexpected declaration. Then he continued:
"I love you so much that I miss you even when I am in bed."
"Thank you," I said, placing my hand over heart. "That is very..."
"So I think I should stay up and watch one of my shows. With YOU."
And he widened his eyes like a bush baby and gave me that uber-insincere five year old smile.
I sent him to bed but he does amuse me so.
Speaking of Patrick, we are about 85% happy with his school so far. Assuming that 100% is more of a Platonic ideal and 95% would have involved, say, a musical written, directed and performed by his teachers called Patrick, He's Fantastic (featuring such songs as "You Must Be Very Proud" and "We'd Like to Thank You for This Career Opportunity") 85% isn't too shabby. As you may recall, I have been worrying about school for Patrick since, um, forever. We went with a multi-age place hoping that a kindergarten/first grade class would provide a good mix for the little dumpling and I think - for the most part - it has. He has learned a lot and he likes it, particularly now that he is going full day and gets to have recess and music and gym. So kindergarten has been good. We took him back to the educational psychologist last month to do some achievement testing and get ideas for next year and (without going into it too much because, no offense, some of you are raving lunatics and I am not getting enough sleep to cope with that right now) her suggestion was that Patrick do math, reading and spelling with the second-third graders next year but stay with the first graders for the social stuff. She further suggested that we consider a full grade skip in a few years or look for a school that just works with kids like Patrick. I am not sure how I feel about either of those things but we certainly do not have to worry about it just yet. As for going to a 2-3 class for most of his school work... I don't know. I like it in theory but I suspect that the logistics will be complicated. Fortunately his homebase teacher will have him again next year and she has been very receptive to things; so I am optimistic we can work something out and that he will be able to have another good year at this school.
Steve is watching I Am Legend in the living room. For some reason the idea of a virus-based Armageddon movie did not appeal to me so much. I am watching it with one eye and typing this with the other - seems to be working as I am getting less freaked out by it than I expected. Good lord I almost forgot - someone wanted to know about Battlestar Galactica. What's the deal with Battlestar Galactica, she asked.
What's the deal with Battlestar Galactica? Oh HONEY. Quite simply if you are not watching Battlestar Galactica you are missing the greatest thing on television. No I'm not kidding. No I actually don't like Sci-Fi. It's terrific. I am fascinated by how the show imagines people coping with the near annihilation of the human race in the same petty, narcissistic ways they handle disputes with their neighbors over where to put the trash cans. It strikes me as likely. After one got over saying, "Oh my god, dead. All dead. Everyone, everything, whole planets gone... uhhhnnnnn"; you probably would start squabbling with the person sitting next to you about something.
Soooo... narcissism. I wanted to tell you about a couple of books that just came out but it is the next day already and Edward is grousing and Caroline is howling and Steve is in bed with a sore throat and I need to leave in fifteen minutes to take Patrick to the dentist. He has two middle grownup teeth in and one molar and I cannot for the life of me figure out how these teeth are going to fit in his mouth. I suppose they do though, right?
More later. And with less long silences, now that the goat has also mastered rudimentary childcare.
PS I am Legend wound up being more boring than scary. We desperately need a new Netflix series to watch. Any suggestions?