My Fresh Hell
Life in Scribbletown.

Other Stuff

2006-07-26

Well, it’s always nice to know I can spark a little conversation (though, you know, you can always leave comments here, too) and debate around here. I’m still not sure how I feel about kindergarten – my opinions change daily – though I’m still for a full day experience. I do predict, though, that kindergarten will soon cease to exist as it was originally intended and become more academic. And that preschool will become something that most children attend as a matter of course. In some places, I think kindergarten is still optional. I’m not sure that’s a good idea. Our world has changed. I don’t necessarily think five year olds should be made to act in ways they are incapable of – sitting quietly at desks and memorizing things – but I do think that our lives are complicated and there is no one solution for everyone. Our kids are different, our lives are different, and sadly we can't all afford private education. If you wish to debate it more, I’m all ears (and mouth). I love a good discourse and am open to other opinions.

Dusty World

“So, what was your snack this afternoon?”
“Banana bread.”
“Yum!”
“I didn’t really like it.”
“Really?”
“Well, I liked it but I didn’t love it. But I still had seconds.”

Dusty wants Santa to bring us a hot tub for Christmas. Somehow he’s got the ability to shrink it so it fits in the sleigh and then expand it to full size once it’s here. If only.

Red World

Bath time is interesting these days. Dusty likes to soap up Red and Red likes to pour water on Dusty’s head. Tit for tat.

Red’s vocabulary and speech ability is expanding. Lately she’s said, “Mama, I want more!” Which is really subtle but at least I know what she wants for once.

One afternoon as we were leaving the daycare, she saw a teacher assistant pushing a food cart down the hall. She pointed to it and shouted, “Eat!”

She also likes to say, “Oh, a mess!” Which is apt no matter what she’s referring to.

This week she’s been treated to some of my husband’s rarer albums including, “Exotica – The Exciting Sounds of Martin Denny” volumes I and II which are full of Asian and Hawaiian influenced pieces. As well as "Coffee Time – Morton Gould and His Orchestra" and "Coffee Time – Reg Owen and His Orchestra".

Red also is apparently in the employ of the electric co-op because every time she walks into a room, she demands that all lights and the ceiling fans be turned on. That’d be fine if I was seeing a pay stub proving this lucrative connection to The Man.

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I am happy to report that the City of Richmond has wiped my bogus past-due tax account clean. I received a letter from them recently that begins with an apology “for any inconvenience” and informs me that they have “exonerated the assessment.” So there’s that. Like I’ve said before: do not mess with me.

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Are you able to wear white shirts? I am not. I am 100% incapable of wearing white without spilling something on it before the day is out. The other day (or last week, something like that) I wore a white shirt, given to me by a friend, and Red fell and scraped her knee. I picked her up and didn’t see the little spot of blood on my shirt until it had been washed and dried. But it had faded enough so that the shirt was at least wearable. Yesterday, while wearing that same shirt (obviously I do not have an extensive wardrobe) I was peeling a peach and dropped a huge section down my front. Then, THEN!, later that evening wearing the now peach stained shirt I managed to let my popsicle leak all over the front of it. So, it not only had a faint blood stain and a less faint peach-colored blob on it, it now sports three pink spots where my firecracker popsicle dripped all over it. I am still six years old when it comes to keeping my clothes clean. Or, maybe I’ve become some really old lady whose senility makes her incapable of eating without a bib. It's come full circle. I need a bib again. I knew 40 was going to suck.

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6:08 p.m. ::
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