Friday, September 11, 2015


It's been a long week. Even though I'm not "working" at a paying job, my days fill up pretty quickly. I volunteer at the school, prepare food, do laundry, make appointments, declutter and organize, and whatever else needs to be done. Yet sometimes I still struggle to see value in what I don't get paid to do. It's a process.

Fiona's class went to the zoo this week. I chaperoned. We walked around for 5 hours and saw some pretty awesome animals. Her class is studying swamps and we were there to observe swamp animals and flora. She was utterly delighted at the very first thing she saw:

I wanted to see a lily pad with flowers on it and I did. Look, mom, look!! 

The men of the family couldn't let it pass without a joke at her expense, though. 
Fiona is going to visit her family on Thursday, Jim says.
She's going to visit the monkeys, Owen pipes up.

Why did change your shorts? 
I peed my pants. Owen made me laugh too hard.
Where you trying to pee your pants? (This has happened before.) 
Yes, she giggled. I should have known. She had just spent the past half hour maniacally laughing.
Sigh. Okay. That is not something to aspire to. 

Danny is back in cub scouts. The leader asked the boys:
If you were a tool what would you be? All the other kids said things like hammer or screw driver. What does my kid say?
Brace and bit.
I asked him why.
It's a drill but with hand power. It makes your muscles bigger.

One night his den did an emergency preparedness activity. The leader asked them what kinds of emergencies they need to prepare for in our state. The answers? Gila monsters and shark bites. 

And a few from the conversations with an ADHDer file: 
Danny, we're all ready to go to the pool. Go get your suit on! I called into the back yard where he was wandering around.
A few minutes later, he yells down the stairs, Mom, does 12 times 2 equal 24?
Do you have your suit on, Danny? 
No. Sigh.

We're giving Danny a stress ball to take to school with him as a sensory fidget. We explained that he was to use it when he felt agitated.
I can throw it my face, he said, excitedly.
Um, no. You squeeze it, Danny. 

Owen continues to be cute as can be. His teacher wishes she had 15 students just like him.

I like home mostly, but I also like Tammy (his teacher), Owen says. But when I tried to give Owen a quick kiss goodbye at school and he ducked.
You're not going to kiss your mama at school, huh? 
No, that's just CRAZY.

Dad gave us a pill with no water once, Owen says.
Well, he can swallow one without water. Maybe he thought you could, too. 
Quietly he says to his siblings, Dad thinks we're adults, we're not. 

I'm going to say the O word, Owen says, smiling.
What is the O word? I ask.
Oh crap, he replies.

When are we leaving home, mom? Danny asks.
Hopefully, when you're 18. 
20, he says. No, 22. No, 100! Oh, crap.

Boys, stop fighting and get dressed, I call up the stairs.
Fiona rolls her eyes and laughs: Stupid boys.
This girl knows what's up.

And, finally, this:

I need this sign in my house!

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