I'm supposed to bring an extra girl home from preschool today (a playdate, not a kidnapping), and we'd planned to go to a candy factory! To watch them make candy canes! Because it's a Denver tradition, and I'm a genius, getting there before December, when it will be ridiculously crowded!
Except it's snowing now (WHY is it snowing? Did anyone ELSE know it was going to snow? Is it ALLOWED to snow, if I'm not notified ahead of time?), and I don't think I want to go across town to the candy factory. I left the other girl's mom a message, saying that I was thinking I'd just take the girls home instead, because I wasn't sure it would be a good idea to drive across town in the snow. Doesn't that sound reasonable? What I MEANT was, "If I drive across town in the snow, especially if I have another mother's precious baby in my car, I'm almost certain to be smashed into by a semi with failed brakes, that is carrying toxic waste. There will be horrifying devastation and loss, and the only survivor of the accident would be me, left to live out my days in a broken body and a haze of pain and regret."
This disturbing peek into the mind of me brought to you by unexpected snow.
The other day Max handed Sophia a small basket to carry to the table. She dropped it, and he said, lighthearted and playfully, "Sophia! You're fired!"
She whipped around, stomped her foot at him, and bellowed,
"YOU CAN'T FIRE ME! I QUIT!"
Some day we'll learn not to laugh at the sassy. That day is not today.
Tre's getting his senior pictures taken this Saturday, and we're getting a family portrait done at the same time. I have officially become obsessed with what we're going to wear. The photographer (a friend AND a genius with the camera, Angela Giles Klocke) advised us to wear color, because we're going to be outside, and winter has caused the land to be colorless, bitter, and wan (word choice mine, and possibly affected by the SNOW. That arrived without proper and due WARNING). This seems like good advice, but now I'm realizing that we have six people in our family and that's a lot of color. Am concerned. I fear Angela is going to show up, take one look at us, and run blindly away from the riot of gratuitous jewel tones.
Sophia's class is learning a fistful of holiday songs, so they can lisp them in concert some night soon (I should really figure out when that is). One of the songs is about Thanksgiving, and it's all about the Pilgrims sailing in, then landing on the rock, then toiling and working in the fields. (She sings that verse "twirl and work the field" which I adore, because that's how she'd do agriculture. Makes total sense to her.) Anyhow, after the twirling in the fields, the Native Americans help them plant, and then they gather for a feast, It's THANKSGIVING!
Max has taught her that the final verse of the song is "Then they kicked them off their land, off their land, off their land. Then they kicked them off their land, it's Thanksgiving!" I managed to quell the verse about genocide, but I can't bring myself to be as disapproving as I probably should be. This is what comes of failing to squash the sassy, you know.
Last but certainly not least, Joshilyn Jackson has a new book out! Now, Joshilyn is a friend of mine, and I know I've recommended every single book she's written right here. But I finished this new one, Someone Else's Love Story, at 1:18 Sunday morning. It is so, so good. It's her best yet. I actually found it very Catholic at heart, which sounds funny, because I know Joss consorts with Southern Baptists. I may not have much credibility, because I adore her, so obviously I want you to buy her books, but you have to get this one. It left me feeling brave, a rare and lovely feat. I would recommend this book no matter who wrote it.
Except maybe the snow. Because I don't know if I mentioned this? But I'm pretty irritated at the snow today.