Yeah, that’s right. Raking thatch. I said it.
And that’s what I’ll be doing today, on a gorgeous day, when I could be riding my bike like I was Pee-wee Herman…I’ll be outside in the slushy, thatchy backyard with a rake that gives me boo-boos on my poor hands. Raking thatch.
But before I take my biscuit out there I can at least update my blog, even though there’s nothing much to report on after last week’s fine display of parental censorship. I called the teacher, who, as I suspected, was not aware of what the book was about. I didn’t get mad or complain, but she apologized out the yin-yang and promised to remove the books and send them on over to the Jr. High.
Been cleaning. Sweeping 10 times a day. Vacuuming 5–with no effect on the amount of dog hair we’ve got imbedded in the carpet and stuck in every corner. Pulled out my own hair in a fit of rage and vacuumed that instead.
I attacked my side of the closet for the first time in…well, since we’ve lived in our house. I can walk back there now instead of having to lean 5 feet over a ton of junk to get to my hanging clothes. It’s nice.
I finally filled out a volunteer application to The Children’s Center in Oklahoma City. Now if I can just make it down there again to drop it off, I’ll be well on my way to reading books to children with very special needs. Or maybe folding laundry or planting plants. I’m hoping to do this about twice a month, most likely on Saturdays and Sundays since Caleb’s babysitting availability can be pretty unpredictable. Wish me luck.
Mia and I had a somewhat disturbing conversation on the way home today from Hobby Lobby (I was trying to find some sort of "Welcome" sign since we’ll be having an outpouring of company in the next 2 months).
MIA: "Mom…excuse me? Mom? Excuse me…but could I have my pacifier please?"
ME: "Mia! You don’t need a pacifier, remember? We gave it away."
ME: "Because the pacifier fairy needed it so she could give it to a little baby somewhere. And now that baby’s happy."
MIA: "But…the baby is dead now. And I need that pacifier."
ME: "The baby is dead now? Did you just say the baby is dead?"
MIA: "Yes. The baby is dead. It got hit by a train and it fell off a bridge and a bear ate it."
No more Fox and The Hound for that child.
You see, not too long ago, Mia was paid a merry visit from the Pacifier Fairy, who took her pacifier to give to a baby somewhere and left her presents in its place. To this day, Mia is not happy with that dirty fairy. And she has not forgotten about her pacifier. I can’t help but wonder if everytime she sees a baby, she wishes him ill will. So much for trying to make getting rid of the pacifier a pleasant experience–I straight up took Cheyenne’s right out of her mouth when she was Mia’s age and told her I was throwing it in the garbage…I’m already brainstorming what I’ll do to the next kid…