Hey, is this thing on? Haloooo, can you hear me?
Sorry about that unannounced leave of absence I seem to have taken. It happens, doesn’t it? One thing or another gets between me and the computer, and suddenly it’s been a week and a half since I’ve blogged. This is never good, because I find myself frozen by two things: all the floating fragments that COULD have been blogs if I’d sat down and written them out, and a paralyzing guilt/delusion that convinces me that you’re all mad at me, so I have to write something rilly rilly good or you’ll hate me.
My friend Amy says (gently, non-accusingly), “You wouldn’t worry nearly as much what people think of you if you realized how little they do.”
The answer seems to be in embracing mediocrity. I think I can do that.
Keeping that in mind, I offer you a few tidbits, the scraps of the tales I would have told.
It’s been gorgeous and warm this week. It’s next to impossible, keeping the boys in the house. I turn my back for a moment and they’re gone, off climbing trees or scorching leaves with a magnifying glass. Yesterday we ate lunch outside, under the tree in the front yard. Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches off animal-shaped paper plates never taste as good as they do when they are overlaid with mild pre-spring air. I made some lame joke, and everyone laughed. Raphael leaned over and touched his forehead to my arm.
“Oh, Mom. You know, you’re not so funny as Dad.”
And then everyone really laughed.
Apparently I’m not so funny as Raphael, either.
Speaking of Raphael, he lost a tooth this week. The top two teeth were pulled a couple of years ago, so with one bottom one gone, the space in his mouth makes a T. He is thrilled. He also started T-ball this week, so our lives are officially over until fall. Raphael is doing the spring season of T-ball, Tre and Max are doing the summer season of baseball. Have mercy. Raphael’s coach, who I hear is a nice guy, seems to believe that three practices a week will make these five and six year olds into ball players. I would laugh heartily at that if I weren’t so busy plotting the man’s demise.
The boys were eating Girl Scout cookies, those chocolate-dipped ones called All-Abouts. They are stamped with messages relating to the Girl Scout experience, like “Girl Scouting is all about leadership.”
Max: Girl scouting isn’t about leadership! It’s about lederhosen!
Raphi: What’s lederhosen?
Max: I dunno.
I made apple pie this afternoon because of it being pi day – you know, March 14, or 3.14? Clever, I know. I totally stole the idea from my niece Kate’s school. Their whole school celebrated pi day. I was charmed by the idea, and I had a bag of granny smith apples to use up…and a great idea was born! I’ve never made an apple pie before, but how hard could it be?
Lord, do you know how long it takes to peel and chop 10 apples? Sheesh. Luckily for me, Tre was bored and insisted I let him help. He was an apple chopping champ, and even though the resulting pie turned out to be BOTH soggy and tough (I clearly have a heretofore unrecognized talent for apple pie ruining), he felt that our pie was excellent. He’ll probably want some for breakfast.
I’ll probably let him have some.
And then I’ll even congratulate myself on getting him to eat more fruit.
It’s a gift.