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Writings on Motherhood, Judaism, and Happily-Ever-Afters

November 2017Monthly Archives

Not a great day

Not a terrible day either.

– It rained all morning, with a toddler going in and out of the car.

– Sam did NOT want to do math, and it was a struggle.  We got it done, but it wasn’t fun.

– Aiden woke up just after math, so that was it for homeschooling today.

– Lizzie peed on my bed.

– I had to shop, and I still have more to do.  The only thing worse than shopping is knowing that I have to do it again tomorrow.

– Jessie needed noodle kugel for tomorrow, which involved me making noodle kugel.  I’d never done it, and it’s really kind of disgusting.  I don’t mind eating it so much, I mean, it’s okay.  But wow, making it is just vile.  You’re just dumping dairy product after dairy product into a blender, whipping it all up and humming it onto a bunch of egg noodles.

– Did I mention the dog peed on my bed?

– A giant spider crawled out of my blender top.  A giant, huge spider.  And Sam can’t see well enough to kill it, so I had to be all adult and assume control.  Am still shaken up as a result.

– My sink is FULL of dishes, and I still have to cook dinner.

– After I finish feeding the kids, I will have even more dishes to do.

– I still have to take Jessie shopping to buy little shampoo/conditioner/soap things to take to camp.

Ugh.  I’m just drained out and tired.  House is in shambles, I need a shower, and the ever growing list of stuff to do is overwhelming me right now.  I pounded two cups of coffee, like they were medicinal, and still feel like I need a nap.

Brave and bold

We had Jessie’s eighth (I think) birthday party at a roller skating rink.  It seemed like such a good idea in the abstract.  The reality was that it was possibly the worst birthday party she ever had (although I’m remembering one where she pelted her guests with baked goods on the way out…).  Turns out Jessie doesn’t know how to roller skate.  Why this didn’t occur to us before putting her on skates is beyond me.

That was not a good day.  She fell immediately, burst into tears, whipped the skates off and glared at us for the rest of the party.

So when Julie’s girl scout troop wanted to go roller skating, I was understandably a little hesitant.  Logically, I fully understood that I couldn’t NOT take her skating, but I was not looking forward to it.  I had hoped that Marc would take her, but he had to work this afternoon.  I gently inquired if she still wanted to go this morning – assuming my little homebody would want to bail.  She wanted to go.

And so, off we went.

One perk to having done this before is that I have incredibly low expectations of what makes an outing successful.  Julie went, walked in without me there to join her troop, put on skates and fell down four times before bursting into tears and begging to go home.  But the first three times, she picked her little self up and kept going.  She even allowed someone to spray paint the ends of her ponytail orange.   She was brave and bold – and I was so incredibly proud of her.

And on the way home, we stopped and got coffee and cocoa together, and listened to music.  We talked about what I was like when I was her age, and it was this lovely little island of time – just me and my baby girl.  Who was brave and bold and orange tipped.  I know now how incredibly fast this age goes by – and how much I’m going to miss having a seven year old.  Watching her stretch herself outside of her comfort zone, experiment with new ideas and new experiences, and discovering who she is – it’s all just beginning for her and I’m so proud of her.