The last few days I've been so tired and weak-limbed, I actually Googled "weak limbs" to see what disease I might have. I imagined how I'd break the news to all of you that I would soon be in a wheelchair: I'd be gentle and clear, resigned and stoic, and you would all admire my poise in the face of tragedy. I would become The Face of Whatever It Was I Had. It turns out that the main reason for weak limbs is "tiredness," and the second reason is "stress," and probably I will not need a wheelchair (or A Face) for either of those.
Today I was so tired, though, I lay down for awhile during naptime, and I would have gone to sleep except I had a wakeful companion who wanted me to read her dinosaur books and discuss our respective barrettes. And I thought to myself, "I must be really unusually tired, because I NEVER lie down during the day. Well, except when I'm pr--................" *long, calculating pause*
This is the kind of time I am so happy to have my cheap pregnancy tests. Sometimes even just having the tests in the house and knowing I could take one immediately is enough to remind me that the statistical chances of a positive are very low. But if I DO feel anxious to have an answer, I don't feel as stupid if the answer is "no" when I've only spent 80 cents---whereas I DO feel stupid, TREMENDOUSLY stupid, when I've spent 7 dollars. (Of COURSE the answer was no.)
I think one reason I've been so tired and frustrated this week is that Elizabeth has stopped taking naps. Some of you have wondered how I find so much time to blog, and one of my main time sources is that all three housechildren take a 2-hour-minimum nap at the same time each day. That's at least ten hours per workweek right there. But now Elizabeth has outgrown naps. And although she is a pleasant, perky, cheerful little grown-up of a companion, she is persistent about her interest in interacting with me Every! Single! Second!
Can I get even ONE SENTENCE of blogging done, even after setting her up in a comfy chair with her stuffed elephant and her pool noodle and her tiny chickie and her stack of dinosaur books and Mommy's Favorite Blanket and her green dinosaur socks and her pink fluffy hat? NO. Because she wants to discuss what she is reading, and she wants to ask questions, and she wants to confirm that that is an apatosaurus, and she wants to talk about how I got all those things for her, and she wants to talk about how we need to be quiet because the little boys are napping and about how she is a big girl now who does not take naps. So she and I have been doing things together, and it IS nice to have some one-on-one time with her, but this is having a cumulative effect as if I were working 13-hour shifts every single day with no lunch breaks---OH WAIT.
And then my third-grader lectured me for flushing an ant down the toilet (the toilet was flushing anyway, and I efficiently tossed the ant in), saying that the food chain depended on ALL species, and what if ants were endangered, and how did I KNOW they weren't endangered, and what if they were endangered NOW because of ME killing them? It was around 5:30 p.m. that he started this conversation, and that's when my mental fortitude is low and I am just barely able to concentrate on breaking off chunks of banana for Henry, and I am not prepared to discuss the significance of alternate food sources for species higher-up on the chain. Rob then mentioned panda bears and polar bears and how THEY were nearly extinct from people killing them, so I promised that if either a panda bear or a polar bear came into our house, I would refrain from flushing it down the toilet.
This reminds me of when I was babysitting a 5-year-old girl who told me that coffee was poison. Cute. Go to bed early, then, and maybe I won't need to poison myself in the morning.
Well. In happy, productive news, I got the two Swistle Care Packages mailed off to the prize-winners. Ha ha: I'll bet they think I was KIDDING about emptying the contents of my junk drawer in there! But I used flat-rate boxes and I had plenty of space, and I saw the opportunity to jettison a whole BUNCH of crap. Bye-bye, crap! Have fun in your new homes! Bye-eeeeeeeee!
And tonight I'm making fudge for the Teacher Appreciation Day buffet tomorrow, and I'm going to watch Gilmore Girls while eating half of the double-batch I'm making, so I don't see how this bad spell can persist.
Gift ideas for an 8-year-old, part 1 of 2 - I have TWO 8-year-olds to buy for, so I’m going to split it up into two posts. Today will be the things we’re getting for Edward. I dislike saying “Gift id...