It took an email from my father-in-law yesterday to make me realize that it has been a week since I posted.
Where does the time go?
We are plunking along but at a more frantic pace than I would like. A bit too rushed, especially in the mornings -- why does it not seem to matter if I wake up five minutes earlier, or ten minutes earlier, or thirty minutes earlier?
Our weather is cooling down which is so lovely, and Tommy has been in a very sweet mood all week long. Lulu has her respiratory problem again but I have had a long talk with her Auntie Chinka and am feeling assured that living in Oman is not solidifying a diagnosis of asthma later for Lizzie.
Perhaps it's because she's not feeling well, but she's taken this week to decide to make sure that the rules are really the rules. It is hard for me when Lulu decides to test me, because when she pushes me so hard that I yell, she turns around and slowly walks out of the room, weeping. She will not respond to my loving apologies at that point, no, I have to stop whatever I am doing (most often cooking dinner because that time is the low point of the day) and chase her to apologize.
Does anyone else think that something here is out of whack? Would you just leave her weeping in the castle tent in her room?
Does anyone else think that it's time to stop reading New Yorker articles and get a couple of parenting books? I'm on it.
Because it often works this way, that one kid is horrible while the other is as sweet as anything, Tommy has been adorable lately. He has also been getting in trouble in music class, which is taught by the guy who conducts the choir I joined a month ago. This is a bit awkward for me, but Tommy has promised me that he has it under control and that I needn't worry. I'm trying to give him the benefit of the doubt but every time the conductor looks at me, I wonder if he's thinking about Tommy's behavior that day in class. (Or maybe he's thinking that I really ought to learn the music before our concert in a month? Or maybe he's just thinking our family needs to get it together in general?)
Have I told you how we have tiny lizards in our house? Not tons of them, but you can usually find one if you look around a little bit. For some reason, I am strict with the kids about leaving them alone. (This must be confusing, as when I find a cockroach, I kill it immediately; and every morning I vacuum along the sugar ants' trail from the front door to the kids' table.) On Saturday, Tommy came downstairs and announced that they had caught a gecko, and "with one tiny careful little touch, his tail broke off! And here's the creepy part: it still moves!" Then, they brought down the bug catcher with the gecko in it. Tommy was carrying the tail which was indeed still moving. I told them to let it out, so they let it out in the foyer and the gecko ran behind a table. Tommy helpfully tossed the twitching tail in the same direction.
And with that, I leave you so that I can make lists of all the things I need to do. (There are a lot.)
Where does the time go?
We are plunking along but at a more frantic pace than I would like. A bit too rushed, especially in the mornings -- why does it not seem to matter if I wake up five minutes earlier, or ten minutes earlier, or thirty minutes earlier?
Our weather is cooling down which is so lovely, and Tommy has been in a very sweet mood all week long. Lulu has her respiratory problem again but I have had a long talk with her Auntie Chinka and am feeling assured that living in Oman is not solidifying a diagnosis of asthma later for Lizzie.
Perhaps it's because she's not feeling well, but she's taken this week to decide to make sure that the rules are really the rules. It is hard for me when Lulu decides to test me, because when she pushes me so hard that I yell, she turns around and slowly walks out of the room, weeping. She will not respond to my loving apologies at that point, no, I have to stop whatever I am doing (most often cooking dinner because that time is the low point of the day) and chase her to apologize.
Does anyone else think that something here is out of whack? Would you just leave her weeping in the castle tent in her room?
Does anyone else think that it's time to stop reading New Yorker articles and get a couple of parenting books? I'm on it.
Because it often works this way, that one kid is horrible while the other is as sweet as anything, Tommy has been adorable lately. He has also been getting in trouble in music class, which is taught by the guy who conducts the choir I joined a month ago. This is a bit awkward for me, but Tommy has promised me that he has it under control and that I needn't worry. I'm trying to give him the benefit of the doubt but every time the conductor looks at me, I wonder if he's thinking about Tommy's behavior that day in class. (Or maybe he's thinking that I really ought to learn the music before our concert in a month? Or maybe he's just thinking our family needs to get it together in general?)
Have I told you how we have tiny lizards in our house? Not tons of them, but you can usually find one if you look around a little bit. For some reason, I am strict with the kids about leaving them alone. (This must be confusing, as when I find a cockroach, I kill it immediately; and every morning I vacuum along the sugar ants' trail from the front door to the kids' table.) On Saturday, Tommy came downstairs and announced that they had caught a gecko, and "with one tiny careful little touch, his tail broke off! And here's the creepy part: it still moves!" Then, they brought down the bug catcher with the gecko in it. Tommy was carrying the tail which was indeed still moving. I told them to let it out, so they let it out in the foyer and the gecko ran behind a table. Tommy helpfully tossed the twitching tail in the same direction.
And with that, I leave you so that I can make lists of all the things I need to do. (There are a lot.)
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