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Small Things 10-9-13

1.  A busy day today with…no nap.

Gulp.  It might be here.
The end of the nap.



2.  Apparently Hen spent much of the time today telling his therapist all about the Halloween costume he does not have, but has been dreaming of.  He’s going as a cement mixer driver, apparently and he couldn’t explain to her exactly what a cement mixer driver costume looks like–which is a shame, because, really, all I’m coming up with is blue jeans and gloves  Maybe boots and a trowel/smoother thingy?  Not exactly easy to differentiate from, say, an excavator driver, without a prop–like a cement mixer?  Ack.

I miss the last couple of Halloweens when I could slap him into a lion costume, give him a five minute lesson in ‘roaring’ and call it a day.

3.  The indoor playground where we go always has certain staple activities–bouncy house, climbing maze, shopping area–but it changes other sections around every few months.  Today, the area previously designated for ‘playing house’, is now for ‘playing doctor’.  x-rays on light screens, lights for peering in throats, coats and masks and stethoscopes and blood pressure cuffs.

Hen was in heaven, getting to handle all the gear he’s been subjected to over the last few months.  He and a little girl played quite happily–he used that light to x-ray her ‘broken’ arm, show her over and over (and over and over) again where it was broken on the x-ray–he really coveted that xray–and apply a cast made from a doctor’s white coat to her arm.  It’s the first time I’ve really seen him engage in pretend play with someone else.  Very cool to see.  This afternoon at home, he fixed my broken arm many times.  A large stick was the xray machine and also the saw (!) he used to cut my arm open, a crazy-dance sufficed for the stitching portion of the surgery, and he pronounced me all better–though it will hurt for a month or maybe a year and I would have to go to therapy and do things I do not want to do.

Yep.  I guess that pretty much sums up medical care from his perspective!

4.  It’s mouse season.  How do I know this?  Because the cat–whose stated purpose in life is to kill rodents trying to live in our kitchen–has started bringing them in from outside.  Our own population of mice being, apparently, not large enough for her.

A couple of mornings ago she brought one upstairs in the wee hours, whereupon it got away.  I found it huddled halfway down the kitchen stairs the next day and chucked it outside.

Found another one under the couch where it apparently expired from previously acquired injuries, along with a live and very healthy chipmunk.  (That one might actually have gotten in through the basement vents, rather than the cat’s mouth, but still–why is she roaming outside when we had a chipmunk in our living room?!  Yuck!)

Also? I couldn’t find her when it was time to take her in for her annual vaccination & exam.  Mattie Catty needs to get her act together.  Grrrr.

5.  I have 3 hours to myself tomorrow while Hen’s in school and I can’t decide how to spend them.  Shopping? Walking? Yoga? Writing? Cleaning? Jogging? Gardening?

I know what I should do. (Cleaning & gardening & shopping & jogging.)

I know what I want to do. (Writing & walking & yoga.)

I know what I’ll probably do. (Writing. Basic bathroom cleaning.  Vacuuming.)

That’s kind of like accomplishing everything on my list, right?

Seriously, the house could use a deep clean.  The garden needs to be pulled/hacked/macheted down (since we’re apparently never going to get a hard freeze.)  With xmas time coming up, with the knees of almost all my pants wearing (or worn) through, I should put in some time at the mall even though I’m the world’s worst shopper.  And I should be jogging.  I just should be.  I need to get back in shape so I have the chance to live long enough to play pretend with my son’s kids someday.

But there’s the book.  And a short story I’ve promised to submit.  And I do love walking when I have a free hour with nothing to make me hurry faster than I want to.  And I’m becoming a fan of the YogaStudio app that Mel recommended a few months back–as a non-joiner, yoga has always seemed far too high-pressure for me.  Classes?  Not happening.  Get dressed up to do yoga?  Hah.  Competitive, crazy-makin’ yoga?  Double hah.  But I am enjoying the routines and the pacing offered, and–well, being able to do it in my jammies if you must know!

Oh well.  Everyone should have so many not-horrible-at-all problems, eh?

Woodfire.  Tummy full of delicious food.  Darling husband beside me, darling son upstairs fast asleep (and I DO mean fast asleep.  Kid conked out almost an hour earlier than usual!)  Cat waiting for me upstairs (I’m hoping she does not have either an indoor or an outdoor mouse to share.)  Dog waiting for me to help her under the covers because she’s just that cold and just that lazy.  Leaves are turning brilliant outside.  I have a book to write, a short story to submit, and a whole slew of ideas for what to do with myself tomorrow.  Life really is good.


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