looney harvest moon
This week marks the first full moon Autumn Equinox since 1991. NASA calls it the The Super Harvest Moon.
Last night, Mr. Cynic and I saw her rise over Kmart as we ventured out to purchase sodas on sale for his Jazz Choir to contribute to Homecoming.
The Moon was a big, round peach in the prussian/ultramarine blue twilight. She was gorgeous and looked exceedingly happy for Fall to come. I tried to get a good picture, but this was the best I could do with the camera I had.
This has been a challenging week. Random odd challenges that have no business conspiring to make me go batty. Looney.
Here are a few examples:
1. Toots has decided that potty training is more fun if she refuses and purposely pees on the rug when we just repeatedly tried to persuade her to use the potty. I won’t mention how poop aspect is going.
2. Can’t find the envelope of family birth certificates that have been in the exact same file for over 15 years and never lost before, through umpteen moves. I will add, that is where the savings bonds for the kids are, too. I spent two hours yesterday searching every file in the home business file cabinet. Honey spent 2 hours searching for it last night, as I not so sweetly, frantically blamed him.
3. 1 & 2 are necessary to register Toots for preschool this week. Preferably today.
4. Mr Cynic’s girlfriend since early December 2009 dumped him on Facebook within a week before Homecoming. By the next day, she had a new date to the dance. He’s basically fine, no teen melodrama about it, but feels a bit humiliated and betrayed. “Mom, I’m 15. It’s not like I was going to marry her.”
5. I work with the youth group at my fellowship on Sundays, usually a couple of times a month. There is a girl there who sidles up to Mr. Cynic quite a bit. During check in when we share a bit of our week with everyone, Mr. Cynic shared the Homecoming dump. This girl pounced. “Well, I’ll go with you if you want a date for the dance.” He said okay, and I found on the ride home that he was totally clueless as to the extent of how much this girl is into him, in the way only a 14 year old boy crazy girl can be. I recognized it right away, because, um, let’s just say it looks familiar.
6. There’s paperwork involved. She goes to a high school in a different town. Paperwork involves parental and principal of her school’s signatures. It’s due today. I heard about it Tuesday afternoon. How the heck….Stroke of brilliance: digitize via scanner and email! Got it all done last night except for two minor details: my printer decided to stop communicating with my computer once again and I haven’t signed it. I fired it off to the teacher in charge as is and emailed that I would swing by the school to sign it today.
7. Haven’t heard back yet from the teacher in charge.
8. Tuesday erupted re: Captain Comic because Monday he erupted on me because of something re: school. Phone calls and emailed letters galore over the course of about 24 hours – in the midst of which was my writing group – as if I’d be able to concentrate on my writing. Literally walking out the door at the end of writing group, Mr. Cynic’s frantic call came about having to cancel his bass lesson for that afternoon because we had to drive around creation to get that paperwork signed and in. My stroke of virtual documentation brilliance occurred on my short ride home.
9. Special needs parent advocacy super powers week. See above. Sorry to be vague, I’m pooped and some of this should remain confidential.
10. Yesterday, Mr. Cynic awoke with a sore throat, but decided he could go to school. Last night, he started stuffing up, but this morning, though he sounded kind of miserable, he decided he felt fine besides the annoying stuffiness and cough.
11. Captain Comic awoke this morning with the same sore throat and decided he did not want to risk infecting the whole school so that they have to shut it down.
12. He seemed verbal and non-feverish enough to go to school to me, so I pushed him out the door.
13. Also on Tuesday, a pen exploded all over our dryer – Inside – which looked like black blooded carnage.
14. In seeking advice how to remove stain, I instead received too many wiseacre comments and helpful hints on how to train my family to empty their pockets. Believe me, I use tools every time I do laundry, which is often, to ensure this happens, to no avail. Periodically, something turns up in the washer or dryer that I wish was cash, but is usually something like an exploding pen, cellphone, tissue scraps, load of melted lip balm covered clothes, legos, candy wrappers or rocks. Or all of the above.
15. There’s more. I know there is. Beyond the usual mayhem.
I blame the moon. It’s the only way I’ll survived the remainder of this looney week.