Boy One is up to his old tricks: arranging to get into trouble at school so that I receive calls from teachers - or at least notes threatening to call. Then I wait around all afternoon and evening for the dreaded ring and it never comes.
I talked with his first kindergarten teacher (Mrs. B) about my dread of those calls that began when Boy One was in her class, and she had the gall to laugh at me! Apparently my fear that Boy One will be too much for the school system to tolerate and they'll ask me to remove him and I'll have to home school him thereby missing out on the social communication aspect of school that is the entire reason I have him enrolled is hysterically far fetched. Huh, who'd have thought? Apparently I'm much too concerned about my children being a burden on others.
Feeling a moment (and it really WAS just a moment) of curious self-pity this week, I sighed over the fact that there are so many families out there where every member is perfectly healthy, while in our tiny nuclear family of five three of us have complications: I have a rare form of epilepsy, my son has autism, and my daughter has a rare heart condition and organ condition. Really, Lord? I have incredible peace about all this but when I have a week like this one it reminds me of the quote (and I can't remember who said it) addressed to God: if this is how you treat Your friends, it's no wonder you have so few.
In another realm, Girl finally crossed a necessary childhood barrier today. I looked up from washing dishes at the sink to see her hovering over the couch in the living room, scissors in one hand, bangs in the other. I was very proud of how little fuss I made. I strode right over to the camera, made her pose for a picture, then solemnly reminded her of the rules for scissors and the fate the would befall her if I caught her at the again. I performed the entire soliloquy with a straight face, and didn't even smile until my mom stopped by and had Girl tell her the story, during which I hid in the hallway and giggled while I listened.
Girl also found my wedding dress in my upstairs closet and has now become obsessed with it. She even brought out her box of dress-up clothes to find various ways to accessorize the dress, which she carries around the house and 'dances' with. As an aside, I really should have had that dress cleaned nine years ago - I don't know if those stains will come out anymore. Ah, well. I guess I'll just have to cut it up and turn it into something else!