We knew she was fun, smart and imaginative already, but it was nice to have official confirmation.
To quote from her teachers’ notes:
…is a delight to have in class. She has strong communication skills. She is very smart and extremely imaginative, especially during free play.
…also interacts well with her peers. She plays well with others, including others in her play. She is always willing to help others.
Of course, she is not perfect, and that is good to hear, too.
…does need to work on following directions, especially during circle time and clean-up time. She also has problems sitting still.
Thank you for sharing her with us.
They also said that her imaginary play has a logic to it. She’s not wildly imaginative, there’s always a story to it. The other day, she was in the play car on the playground. She was going to the store, but hadn’t decided yet what she was going to buy when they asked. Then the car got stuck in traffic, and then she accidently drove into the river and had to escape from it before she drowned, completely acted out with swimming across the playground sand to safety.
I’ve got a neat kid. Three of them, in fact. This big imagination stuff with logical storylines must be genetic.
And she’s not even three yet. 🙂 That’s my girl!
Not the edits I intended, I seemed to dig a little deeper into the new beginning and edit out a bunch of unnecessary phrases and wrote in a new scene that seemed to take care of some other awkward aspects mentioned in my critiques.
Otherwise yesterday seemed to be kind of awash in just bonechilling dank which was demotivational the rest of the day. But I felt good about what I accomplished at the writing group.
Then it rained last night, hard, and dripped from the overfull gutters onto the awning case for the deck – right outside our bedroom wall, and is still rather drippy, so I am out of it today. Seriously interrupted night.
This morning I had a meeting with some friends, and we had a very interestingly deep conversation even though we all expressed feeling really out of it with the rain and cold. I was glad for it. I think it made us all feel a little closer.
It’s a weird week, the boys have half days all week and I strangely have more appointments than usual.
Anyway, just a little something when I don’t have much else to say. Some days are just like that.
Life is good. Watch for robins. I’ve seen a bunch this week!
Japanese Maple buds, today about 1pm.
Toots woke up very crabby this morning. She has been pushing bedtime to the outer outer limits of the night owl-ism and boy is she cranky in the morning. This is the absolute opposite of both the boys, who have always been early to bed and dawn risers. Captain Comic had early childhood sleep issues galore, but since we solidified a routine, he has stuck with it, pretty well, since he was three. Mr. Cynic is going to bed later these days, but still is the first one up and out of the house thanks to the ridiculously early start to the high school day.
This morning, Toots wanted her hair in a ponytail. I put it in a ponytail. She wailed and whined, “No not that ponytail, I want the other kind a ponytail!” Not that I could understand her through the whine with two fingers in her mouth, until about the forty-seventh time. I tried to put it in piggie tails, she screamed and whined, through that as well.
After the third attempt to put her hair up, finally I just gave up and said, “fine, wear your hair down, I’m done until you can speak to me in a nicer voice.” She still doesn’t have any ponytail and her hair is flopped over her face as she watches Sesame Street. Periodically she brushes it back, using her entire arm.
It’s going to be a long week.
Thank goodness for writing group on Tuesday. I think that may be my only chance for escape.
Saturday, after a failed attempt to take a highly resistant Mr. Cynic out for driving practice, Honey and I had a ‘date’ at Lowe’s. I know, exciting and romantic, right? Actually it was for us, because we started planning the lumber and tool needs to make a loft for one of the boys, so we could move the boys in together and move Toots out of our bedroom and into one of her own. This will seriously cut down on household clutter, since all her toddler and preschoolness is spread out in the office and family room, and drifts into the living room and dining room, even the bathrooms. We actually planned a bunch of other outdoor projects as well, the broken railing on our porch from the Christmas light incident; some fence mending and building a new ramp for the shed; resetting the raised gardens higher and shrinking the plot size to more manageable for my back and for the vegs that will grow to grow better.
We found ourselves standing in the miter saw department, sketching room redesigns on the backs of paint samples. We get so caught up in the daily business of things at times, so it was a fun little dreamer’s escape for when the tax return comes in. So yes, it was fun and romantic for us, since it means, in a couple of months, we’ll have a room to ourselves again after three years. Won’t that be nice?
I went on the retreat.
I got excited about shredding my manuscript and puzzling it back together better.
I worked eight hours a day, solidly, for three days – during which, I doubted everything about it, then got back to work.
Then got felled big time by a stomach bug.
Then came home and laid in bed for another two days, on yak prevention duty.
Then I felt better. Then I got excited again, but didn’t have the time and space to get back on the horse – er – manuscript.
I paid attention to my kids. This made me happy, if slightly distracted because I wanted to write. But when with them, I was with them.
I cleaned my desk.
I got excited again.
This morning I had two hours to myself. I spread out the manuscript critiques. I opened the document to where I left off. I went back to the beginning and started reading what I did during the retreat. I didn’t finish. I was distracted eventhough no one else is here. I have about forty-five minutes left and feel like I failed.
But then I remembered how my writing process works. Fits and starts. And I know I haven’t failed, but it’s frustrating to want to work well and not be in alignment yet with what I need to do. And this is what takes me so long to write. I work internally, while I might seem like I’m doing nothing, or I’m complaining about not having the time and space, I am working on it all the time. Just not on paper, until I do. Then I work solidly for three days, a week, whatever, and then I crash.
And then I pull the start string on the lawnmower that is my mind about seventeen times before the ignition engages on paper or screen and then I am off and running again. And as long I recognize this is my pattern, I’m okay. Somewhat dissatified, but Okay.
Besides, I can feel it bubbling below the surface which just means, maybe this afternoon, maybe tomorrow…maybe I will shoo everyone away from me when they are all back in the house, and I will write, even amidst the mayhem.
When I finally felt better, and had the house to myself for Tuesday morning, I was going to write, but I did this instead:
There’s no before picture, I didn’t think about showing that to the world at large. I should try to describe the sea of papers and household effluvia from blocks and legos to totally random single playing card – queen of spades, I decided to keep her because of this. I figured I needed a reminder from time to time that I am one of those women.
Anyway, the mess was taller than the tape dispenser on one side and where the name book is standing up, it was about half way up the hard drive – a completely nonsensical pile that went all the way back to last spring, with a class autograph book from Captain Comic’s elementary school. The pile buried the adding machine, half the lamp stand and ramped down toward the keyboard. Things slipped off and into my mouse constantly. Yes, I keep my mouse on the left side. I am lefthanded. It works better this way.
See all that brown surface? Nonexistent.
So now I can spread out my manuscript critique copies to the right and work on them, I hope. Minus continual interruptions…
On another note – at the writing retreat, one friend and I decided to meet every Tuesday morning to write. I was in a brain fog, sick as I was when we discussed it, and forgot that this first Tuesday was out because she had another meeting. I think that’s how I managed to clean my desk instead, I had allotted the time to writing elsewhere.
So because I was home when I expected to be out, I didn’t quite know how to start here instead, then the mess just made me crazy. There was no where to put my stuff with all the kid crap and junkmail, etc all over.
I think that says a lot about how I am present in my life. Even when I say, “No more crap on my desk!” It happens anyway.
Even when I say, “No this is MY time!” I do for other anyway.
Cleaning my desk was a good reminder to take care of my own priority, too.
No wonder it has taken so long to write this dang book!
The first night, two of us arrived just in time for dinner, while the rest had arrived and worked earlier in the day. We found a great pizza place called Cosmo’s, recommended by locals, if you’re ever in the area. Be aware, though, there are two unaffiliated Cosmo’s Pizzas. The one that serves an Alla Bianca and something they call The Percolator is the one you want.