Friday Wrap

I spent the majority of Monday and Tuesday in my pajamas. Yep. Didn't get dressed until about 1pm on either day. I'm thinking that the fact that the days I don't feel like doing anything but sitting around in my pajamas and that I've felt so discouraged and yucky lately is a good sign that depression may be rearing its ugly head. Again. Grrrrr... I thought I had this licked.

So, the drama has begun. Kaitybean came home from school on Monday thoroughly jubilant. "Mom," she said, "Chandler decided that he wants to be my boyfriend!" (She later said this to her Daddy, who very sweetly replied, "Who wouldn't want to be the boyfriend of such a kind, beautiful, happy, smart and funny girl." Good Daddy. She just blushed and smiled.) I asked her what it meant for Chandler to be her boyfriend. She said it meant that they both had crushes on each other. Okay. I reminded her that we don't date or kiss boys in our family until we're sixteen (though I'd prefer 20!). And she just smiled. No problem. Well, I should have known. On Tuesday afternoon she came running in the door, went immediately to her bedroom adn slammed the door. Not promising. So, I went in and found her sitting on her closet floor, looking forlorn. "What's wrong, honey?" I asked her. "Chandler broke up with me because he says he's too old for me," she replied. "He's 9 and I'm only 7." "What a retard!" is what I thought. Instead I told her, "I'll bet that made you feel sad." We had a good talk and she eventually felt better. And I think she came to the same conclusion about Chandler as I did, but she's still inviting him to her birthday party on Saturday.

Visited the doctor on Wednesday to check my poor foot. It's still hurting and popping and crackling from the dive-bombing frozen apple juice hitting it. They did x-rays and everything looks a-okay. Whew. Now that I feel my hypochondriacism settling down I think I'll go for a run without worrying about permanent damage to my foot.

Um, JDub decided on Wednesday to start speaking Spanish exclusively in our home. There are mixed reviews around our house about this. I am a little frustrated that he started it up without even a warning. "Hey, honey. I'll be speaking Spanish from now on. So, don't get discouraged if we can't have a meaningful conversation for the next six months or so. You'll catch on eventually." ARGH! Though, I've begged him with each of our babies to speak Spanish to them so that they'd grow up knowing both languages. So, better late than never, I guess. And I'm sure learning a lot of Spanish. It was an interesting scene in Home Depot when we were buying parts for a sprinkler we were building. He was trying to explain his ideas to me. In Spanish of course. And refused my "Ingles, por favor." several times. Like I have the vocabulary to understand, let alone PARTICIPATE in that discussion. But we got it. I learned a little Spanish. He got his way. Our relationship suffered a bit, or at least my part of it. Such is life, I guess. Maybe it shouldn't be, I don't know. I've felt so disregarded lately and I wonder if it's just me or if there really is a problem.

I finished reading Pride and Prejudice this week. Oh, I loved that book. I wish I had read it 10 years ago. I loved the story, the characters and far from being caught up by the language, I LOVED it. I found myself speaking rather correctly this week because I had such proper, flowery English in my head.

My brother and his fiance set a date to be married. October 21. Wow. She came over tonight to bring Kaitybean a birthday present, even though she's only known us for a little over a week. She really is a great person. I'm liking her more the more I get to know her.

Speaking of Kaitybean, she is eight years old today. Did you read that?!? My firstborn, my sweet only daughter, my 4 pound 13 ounce bean of a baby is EIGHT YEARS OLD. How did this happen? Why do they have to grow up so fast?

And more drama from her. Yesterday she came home from school 30 minutes late. I'd like to say that I was about ready to start calling around the neighborhood, but the truth is, I was too distracted to realize that it was that late. So, she came home with her hair all messed up, ran into my arms and said frantically (though not quite frantically enough). "Mom, somebody tried to steal me!" She then told me that a man with bluish-green eyes and blonde spiky hair pulled her into his tan van and took her to his house with the brown shingles on the roof and the white door. She was able to sneak out, but not before noticing a gun and a knife on his desk. She told me he bit her and showed me the bite mark. It was not very deep and strangely just the right size and tooth pattern to be HER bite-mark. We talked some more. I probed. She answered and squirmed and shifted. "Are you telling the truth?" I asked her, looking into her eyes. She finally broke down in tears and told me that she'd been lying. What really happened? She walked home with a friend to see her kittens and lost track of time. Hmm, 30 minutes late. What would you most like to hear? Kittens at a friend's house or fleeing from a deranged (though small-mouthed and inattentive) abductor? We talked about that. And the idea that honesty is ALWAYS the best policy and that she definitely NEVER needs to mess up her hair, bite herself and come up with a crazy, scary story to keep Mom from being mad because she's a little late. I can't tell you how many levels on which this is disturbing to me. First that she'd even tell that lie in the first place. Second that it could have happened and she would have come home frightened to a mom who hadn't even noticed that she was 30 minutes overdue. Third, that she is such a good actress and can tell such a convincing story and lie already. Sure, there were some clues, but she'll get better. And even with the inconsistencies, if she had looked me in the eye and told me she was telling the truth I would have called 911 right there and then. I'm hoping that the way I handled this will help her understand that she shouldn't and doesn't ever have to lie to me.

As for my little self, I'm flitting between feeling elated, exhausted, terrified, nauseated and HUNGRY. I swear, there's a little person inside me ordering my meals for me. And you know what? This little person is a CARNIVORE! Cravings this week: meatballs, ground beef (yep, fried half a pound of it for lunch on Tuesday), steak, cheeseburgers and chicken. Oh and tomatoes. No, I haven't gained 5 pounds this week.

Oh, and I have to sing Mr Linky's praises. I couldn't get my autolink to work yesterday, so I emailed him. Not fifteen minutes later I had a reply letting me know what the problem was. With a tiny bit of tinkering I was able to fix it. Not in time for any of you to use it, but that was because I didn't get to it until night time. Not because I didn't get a quick reply and efficient help. He came to my rescue immediately and was able to see exactly what the problem was. And today he's working on figuring out why it happened. What a guy.

So, that's it for now, folks. That's all I can remember. Unless I'm in the mood to post something special for Mother's Day, I'll see you on Monday.