I mean really cold. Like, yesterday the high was something steamy like 9. Nine. Nine degrees. Did you know hand lotion will freeze as hard as a rock at 9 degrees? Do you know what it feels like when your nose hairs freeze? Did you know that it's weeks like this that make me foggy on why, exactly, I love Colorado so much?
Tonight Tre was doing the dishes, and he was scooping some mashed potatoes into a container. A small lump of potatoes fell on the counter, and he picked it up and spun around to throw it back in the bowl with a behind-the-back move that almost never works. This time was no exception, and the lump landed on the counter well to the left of the bowl. He shook his head and scooped it up, all set to try it again.
"NO," I said. Just to be clear, I followed that with, "DON'T."
He gave me his best shoulder-slump of disappointment, but he didn't spin into his "special" move again. This time he slam-dunked the mashed potatoes. You know. As one does. Sometimes, when I get to the end of the day, and the house is still standing, I just look at it and marvel.
I read some old entries on this here rambling blog the other day, and you know what? I sure did complain a bunch about Sophia not sleeping. Guess what? She still doesn't! So now that I'm not whining about it, does that mean I've grown as a person and have accepted it? Wait. Does that count as whining?
I have always detested the title "stay at home mom," most of all because it's inaccurate. What I actually am is a "drive all the freaking time mom." I am so sick and tired of driving that I've invented a game to keep me entertained. It only works if you have a teenaged son sitting next to you. When you start getting bored, and he's looking at his iPod and failing to entertain you, just pretend you see a slug bug. Punch him, announcing gaily, "Slug bug...um...PURPLE!" OH, it is funny. Every. Single. Time.
Speaking of me and driving all the freaking time, we went to the orcadontist again today. We got Max's second retainer! And it fits even worse than the first one. NO, REALLY. And then? And then? They did the WORST THING THEY COULD POSSIBLY DO TO ME. They sent out the kindest, most competent and helpful assistant in the whole bunch, so I couldn't even get satisfactorily snippy with her. She was so so SORRY, y'all! But I tell you what, I am mentally composing SUCH a stinging letter! OH yes I am!
Raphael is reading the Hunger Games series, and he's being completely obsessive about it. I caught him listening to the audio version of the second book tonight, a good hour after his bedtime. I took it wordlessly away and left him to stew about what consequences THAT might bring, but between you and me? I think that is sort of awesome. Sneaking books. Rock on there, you sweet and rotten child.