This morning when I woke up I was confident it was a weekend day, and in fact I thought, "I wonder why Paul is getting ready to take a shower already? Oh, well, it doesn't matter, I will just continue sleeping luxuriously, since none of the kids are up yet." And then it emerged that he was in fact done with his shower rather than preparing for it, which meant it was my turn, and anyway that was not a very good start to the day.
Yesterday the hospital called to assign us Elizabeth's tonsillectomy surgery time for Monday (we need to be there at 6:30 a.m.), and then I ate Nutella right out of the container for awhile. But I did feel better after the call, because it was one of those nurses who is firm and confident and yet caring and understanding, and she had a comfortingly gravelly voice. It made me feel like this whole thing was totally routine and fine and everything was under control---and yet also like she was fully aware that the routineness/fineness from the hospital's point of view didn't mean that it wasn't weird/non-fine for the parents who don't see this every day. Really, she was very good at her job. Nurses make so much difference at times like this.
We got Rob's school supply list in the mail, and it says he needs erasable pens. Do you have a brand you like? The last time I used erasable pens (back in school, I think), the technology had advanced only to the point of adding an eraser to the top, but not yet to the point of having the eraser WORK.
Gift ideas for an 8-year-old, part 2 of 2 - Last week I talked about the gifts we were getting/considering for Edward, who is turning 8 next month. This week it’s Elizabeth’s turn: not “girl gifts,” ...