I said something this morning (my memory is strictly taken up these days with important matters like who hates the yellow spoon and who needs the yellow spoon) to Grammy along the lines of "I have to go grocery shopping" and she said "yeah, and UPDATE YOUR BLOG."
So I am. I didn't go to the store yet though.
This is a picture, from when I thought about my blog a couple of weeks ago, in the back yard. It really was warm enough for shorts that afternoon.
And he really does want to climb the slide whenever we're outside.
Not that he doesn't usually have help; this can turn into a dilemma because he doesn't actually want to go down the slide, he just wants to stand at the top of the ladder. And Certain People behind him really, really want to go down the slide.
So they just go around.
(Yes. Bud came outside so he could sit with folded hands on a chair. I don't know why.)
(But he's pretty cute, huh?)
Here's the Husband checking on the health of our fir trees.
Here is the first leaf that fell off our ash trees, on the bizarrely still-green grass.
Here is the back 40, behind the fence, where we run the dog, and a fair example of what our whole yard looked like pre-landscapers.
He did go down the slide some, and run around, but he got very shy when he saw the camera.
This one also steals everyone else's milk cups. Common knowledge that stolen milk is sweeter.
Me: Don't play with the faucet.
Her: Mama, I'm just...
Me: I said don't play with the faucet.
Her: Mama, I'm just....
Me: If you don't stop touching the faucet--
Her: MAMA! I want to spray the dog with the hose!
Me: No.
Her: Oh.
The Littlest Sasquatch has also recently discovered bikes/trikes/wagons/dirt. It's pretty awesome.
Part of my ill-deserved reputation for being hardworking. (I think I am not lazy, but I'm not overworked by any means.) This is Homemade Wheat Bread, and fabulous. The secret is to use sunflower seed oil, I've discovered, having bought it by accident one time.
No, I don't have it all together as a homemaker.
I mean, I can prioritize something and get it done--that's a plus--but then I have to let other things go. So for instance, on a given day it might be clean bathrooms/floors/sinks/counters, OR vacuuming. Or lots of reading to the kiddos, OR working on writing projects. It's never both, at this season of life, when I can't delegate a dang thing beyond "pick up your underpants, don't shine that flashlight at baby, he doesn't like it!".
I imagine it will be the same way after they (sob) start to move out, and I'm left with only my own devices again. On the one hand it will be my own devices without the constant Entropy Team disbursing toys, crumbs, books, papers, and fur around my house, but on the other it will be an adjustment and sort of lonely.
It's a good thing the Lord only asks us to do one thing at a time.
The Entropy Team and I had a lazy, lazy day today--I needed to recover from finally finishing The Novel (which still needs to be edited, but I have to take a break so I can actually see my typos and such), and they needed to recover from me being absorbed in my laptop.
Even mainstream sources (the news ticker on the MSN homepage, for instance) are realizing that the recession isn't getting any better. It'll probably be easier for all of us if we just expect things to stay interesting for a while.
The world won't come to an end--unless the Lord has that planned--but you may want to consider doing some very specific practice: Getting Along With Annoying People Who Do Stupid Stuff. You might have to move in with one; one might have to move in with you. You will almost certainly be doing business with them.
This is more than just keeping your mouth shut, which tends to lead to festering and psychotic breaks. It means actually hearing the annoying statement and then deciding whether you're going to deal with it (as in, "no, you may not wash your socks in my stock pot") or forget about it ("eh, I own bleach as well as a stock pot"). There is no middle way.
It's easier to forget about stuff than you would think. By nature I'm an OCD, picky, organized, methodical, change-resistant person. But it's just too much effort to get worked up about folks who don't do things the way I do them. Yes, we all know that I practice The Proper Awesome Way of filing financial papers. Yes, I could get annoyed when I catch a glimpse of a friend's desk and their Stack of Misery. But it isn't my desk--so, not my business. Likewise, people rarely set events up in a way I think is most efficient. But it isn't my event--so, even if I attend, all I give myself permission to do is laugh.
See, the alternative to dealing with it or forgetting about it is fussing. And I don't allow that in my kids, so I can't do it. Fussing doesn't make anything about a situation better--it doesn't find the solution faster, boost anyone's morale, help anyone think clearer, or speed up the work. All it does is make everyone except the fusser miserable.
Even the fusser's pleasure in fussing is short-lived. It feels good to vent feelings on someone, for a moment, but only the most self-deluded among us can escape the eventual realization that fussing at someone the whole time that they're trying to clean up a less-than-ideal situation is technically referred to as Being A Butt. Don't be a butt, get it in gear and help clean up. Whistle, if you can't think of anything nice to say.
A nice accompaniment to the two viable solutions is encouraging. Whether you're dealing with it or forgetting about it, everyone responds well to having their work noticed, having their good intentions acknowledged, and their mistakes tactfully handled. Nobody responds well when it is implied or stated that they, or what they are doing, is The Dumb Way.
These relationship skills are always important, whether you're a homeschooling parent, an employer, an employee, or really anyone else who has to figure out a way to exist in groups of people who need to get things done. They may come in handy in the coming months as folks do more and more bartering and informal business. But it's also Biblical--Christians aren't supposed to be butts. (That's a loose paraphrase.)
Now, let me go get three little butts in gear for bedtime.
Cheers,
Breanna
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