Solitude Thinking Bust

The kids have been out of sight for about 40 minutes. I think they're all somewhere within this house, and I think I could even guess which room within this house.
Should I be concerned?
Well, I'm not.
Not much.
At least I wasn't concerned until I started to hear their raised voices from two floor-levels away. [Is that the correct way to express that I believe they are in the attic bedroom and I am on the ground floor? Well, I don't think I will change it anyway.]

So.  The kids are out of sight. Let me talk about something else, something not mama-related.

Hmmm.

The dryer just buzzed.

Hmmm.

I would come up with another conversation, but you see, I still hear that shouting from the attic.  It's not pleasant, but I still am not going to go investigate. I am going to take advantage of the approximately 35 seconds I have before someone - probably a younger sister - comes tattling to me with tears streaming down cheeks.  Within those 35 seconds, I hope to pull together one cognizant, non-mama thought.

Hmmm.

25 seconds.

Hmmm.

[That's the way I spell the humming noise I make in my head when I am thinking.]
[Or when I'm trying to think. It's a coping mechanism to bust through Thinkers Block.]

Hmmm.

[The three M's are important.]
[It's not working.]

I think I need to go make bread. Or dinner rolls.  Or something that requires the oven.  I guess I could make dinner?  Yep. Forget this solitude. I am going to go do something that requires less thinking.  I was having a little trouble with that occupation anyway.

Winter Backyard Wonderland

I couldn't handle another round of indoor tag today, so I insisted that our Physically Educating segment take place in the snow.   The only problem was that I made this declaration in GNotSuchABaby's presence.  She was not going to be left out again.

Very serious about this first expedition into snow play.

There's lots to do, even if there isn't enough snow for a fort, snow people, or sled pulling.

Digging in the ice left by a dripping garden hose.  We prepare well for winter.

Since this is his favorite cat, I'd hate to see him playing with the ones he doesn't like so much.

I made them all group together for a picture.

Immediately after enjoying a nice healthy scarf snack, Weston returned to frozen gardening. Sam turned to Norah with an enticing, "Let's pretend we're Americans fighting Germans in World War 2!"

She was all over that idea.
I am raising my children right. (I hope.) Of course, when I was growing up, we pretended that we were oppressed Jews running away and hiding from Germans, not fighting.  I can't decide which role play is better, but there is no doubt that snow enhances both situations.
The little sisters were left to fend for them{bundled-up}selves.  When I saw the protective way that Willa was guiding Ginger around the yard, my icy heart cracked with warm feelings of good cheer.

Were there ever such adorable sisters? I mean, since my sisters and I grew up?

Hellooooooow, I'm a Little Cold Over Here

Buckle your figurative (or literal, if you are that cool) seat belts, because this is a whirl-through of unrelated thoughts and moments from my day.  Mostly (but not all) from that part of my day where I was fixing lunch.

Conversations yelled from one room to the next are the norm in our house, but this one was today's best offering:
Me (fixing lunch in the kitchen): "You want your bread toasted, Sammy?"
Sam (doing Math sums at the dining room table): "What - are you going to use the toaster?"
Me (unobserved eye roll): "That is how I generally toast bread."

Today we learned that trees grow from the top, not the bottom. Which explains why my initials haven't moved since 9-5-90.  This does not explain why I haven't grown any taller since then, but we were talking about trees, not short people.

It is still cold here. Hellooooooow, it is Winter Time. Which I love.  But still, it remains cold. Therefore, I want to eat all the time. If you don't like it, Weight Loss Plan, you can just suck it go and find someone else to go on that guilt trip with you.

I hate Math. On all levels. Like the First Grade level.

My fingernails are in much worse than bad shape. Does anyone have any suggestions for cracking, peeling and ugly nails?

The news guys said that John Kerry has been "preparing for this job his whole life."  What about that part of his life when he was running for president? Was that all in preparation for this appointment?

Obviously someone is confused.

Tonight was Spaghetti Supper at the Ruffer House. Also known as, eat as much as you possibly can. I do love me some spaghetti.

I've been reading Treasure Island. No, not aloud to the kids. Yes, for the first time. So far, it is holding up pretty well against the Muppets version.

Which is saying something.

It is still cold here. Hellooooooow, I live in A Very Old House.  Which I love.  But still, it is cold.  Therefore, I must find alternative heat sources, like turning on the oven to bake cookies. Have we had a similar discussion already?

I have always thought that "hello" should end with a "W." It rhymes with "yellow," right?

True story: One brother texted me and asked for another brother's phone number. I told him it was 757-867-5309.  It would have been funnier if we didn't all have to include area codes.  It would have also been nice if he'd included a tiny personal greeting, but oh well.  I really am ok with the fact that the first brother never calls me and only contacts me when he needs information about another family member. It doesn't hurt a bit. Do you think family issues should stay private? Well, I'm pretty sure no one has read this far, so it's almost like I didn't share anything at all.

Mood Swing Much?

Today I played with my kids. 
True story.

19^°F

High

Snow Shower  

Chance of Snow: 50%

It was too cold to send them outdoors for the scheduled 30 minutes of recess/physical education/run-around-screaming-until-you're-worn-out-enough-to-listen-to-your-afternoon-lessons.  I would have felt guilty staying  in the relative warmth of the house while I sent my young'ns in such frigid air, even if they do have a barn for shelter.  Of course, I didn't really want to give up said warmth, relative or not, so I kept them in.

We played tag for 30 minutes.
Yes. We ran in the house.
Yes. I participated.
Yes, I actually enjoyed myself.  In fact, I laughed until I cried just a little. A plus? I grew warm enough to shrug off my cardigan, a nearly unheard of occurrence in this house. It was a pretty intense game of tag, covering all four levels of our house and a rather fluid set of rules.
I felt like one of those fun moms from a different blog.
Then it was time to get back to the serious part of school (i.e., Math).  I was the only one ready to be settle down.
So I yelled at those pesky kids.
I didn't use any bad words, but I certainly displayed my irritation.
Math makes me cold. I had to heat up some coffee and search out my discarded sweater. (Found on a kitchen chair.)
I'm pretty sure moms on other blogs don't follow a truly fun bonding experience with screaming over non-essentials.  Maybe I would have felt less guilty if I'd just let them out in the freezing temperatures.  Maybe.

Maybe I'll make it up to them with some free pie at the bakery. Can National Pie Day rescue my children from my emotional fluctuations?  Does anyone else think that the American Pie Council sounds like a humanitarian aid organization with more calories?

Remember to Forget

Unexpectedly, I just remembered that I forgot to lower my blusher.
It was awhile ago.  Dad was walking me down the aisle towards my 12 year old groom.  I felt that kind of happy that packed my chest full of air so tight that if I exhaled I would release an embarrassing gasp or burst into tears.  I'm not sure how I made it down the length of the church on one breath, but I did.  At the end of our little walk, Dad bent down (not as far as he normally would, thanks to my four-inch heels) and kissed my cheek.
Without lifting my veil.
Because it wasn't there.
In all the pre-wedding primping, I had forgotten to place the veil in front of my face.  I had been told that a "blusher" wasn't really fashionable anymore, but I always thought it was a romantic touch.  And if there was a moment in my life to revel in romance, surely it was this moment, right?
But if there was ever a moment in my life when I didn't care about insignificant details, it was then.  That overwhelming happiness didn't leave any room for anxiety.
Now that I'm reminiscing, I see a lot of wedding day details that didn't go exactly the way I planned. I don't remember caring when a single one of them occurred.
Not when the organist informed me that the piece of music she had practiced for the wedding was not the one I had listed in the program, but was indeed the one I had requested over the phone.
Not when one of the guests hugged me while holding an ink pen, inadvertently sketching in blue across my bustle.
Not when an elderly man began slicing his way with scissors through the tulle strung along the pews.
Not when the caterers whisked the food away before everyone had partaken.
Not when we didn't have enough chairs for people to sit.
Not  when people didn't dance.
Not when I forgot to remove my veil for the dancing.
Not when the groomsmen pulled a good-natured but slightly embarrassing prank.
Not when my brothers expressed their disapproval over the garter-toss.
I didn't care about any of those details because I was pretty caught up in the bigger picture: I was getting married to a rather tall, tuxedoed man of my dreams.  Someone who still endeavors to make me laugh nearly every day.

At times, the details of my life with the rather tall, tuxedoed man at the end of the aisle haven't gone exactly the way I planned.  But I seem to have misplaced the composure I owned on my wedding day. Most times I lose sight of the bigger picture and I let anxiety over insignificant disappointments snatch away my peace.  I let momentary stuff suck the happy right out of my chest.  I wish it wasn't so, but it is.

Maybe I was just unexpectedly reminded of my blusher because I need to remember to forget the small stuff and immerse myself in today's bigger picture.

For the record, I did not marry a 12 year old.  He just looked inordinately young.  I have a picture to prove it, but you'll have to wait until I find the scanner.  We're old enough to remember film.

Christmas Capped and Re-Capped.

This first paragraph has nothing to do with Christmas, or anything else in my life, really.

* * *
I dreamed I met this actor at a (fairly empty) bar. I then proceeded to tell him that I loved his work (walking around the house using his "I'm so changeable" line on my husband) but really only watched the show for the Jim Gaffigan cameos.  When I woke up, I realized that Gaffigan doesn't make an appearance in the new Sherlock series.  Did I just give the BBC a stellar idea? I think so!
They probably won't thank me.
* * *
Now, a merry little re-cap.

We had several very nice celebrations of Christmas.

Well, GBaby didn't enjoy herself so much.

But she's better now. Back to her regular self.

And WBeans claims that she didn't get any presents that she liked.

But I've noticed that she's played a lot with them anyway. Plus, she obviously had plenty of chocolate for face decorating.

After Christmas, we were blessed with snow to help us struggle through the remainder of 2012.
I love pretty snow.

I love when my kids play in the snow.  It saves me emotionally.

But today we have to get back into schoolwork.

Some of us are obviously more excited about this than others.