Summer: Tues., 7/17
BEEPING WOKE ME UP AGAIN AT 5 A.M. I THINK ANDREW IS GASLIGHTING ME. At 5 a.m. I was on a chair in the hallway, pulling down every single detector off the ceiling (why do we have so many detectors?? what are they detecting??). And then at about 10 a.m. THERE WAS MORE BEEPING. So I pulled down the detector in the downstairs hallway. If there's more beeping tonight, I'm taking down every one. Every. Single. One. In. The. House. And I'm going to put them into a bag, and tie the top, and smash it all with a hammer, and put it out for the trash, and not replace them.
This isn't a new problem. Unidentified, middle-of-the-night beeping is A Thing in our house. A few months ago it was several nights of this, until Andrew discovered a forgotten carbon monoxide detector plugged in behind my office door. There is nothing, nothing, more frustrating.
A stormy stormy day meant no pool, but L&G were happy to have a day at home after their art classes. We had lunch and then made a trip to 5 Below, which I'd promised--a bribe to get Greta to re-learn the piano pieces she'd forgotten. We'd been lax in doing her review pieces during every practice session, and she just...forgot them. Completely. French Children's Song--gone. Lightly Row--gone. And she didn't want to work on relearning them. There was a lot, a lot, of whining. So, a bribe. There was still occasional whining, but by gum, she relearned every song.
At 5 Below, both girls picked out a furry notebook that looked like an animal face, and a blind bag of two mini Fingerling figurines. They were really excited about all of it, and spent the rest of the afternoon building an elaborate pillow fort and playing with the tiny Fingerlings and the larger Fingerlings they got for Christmas (and hadn't looked at since). The Fingerlings even helped Greta practice piano later in the afternoon. She insisted that the larger Fingerling stay on, chattering, even while she was playing; and if you're able to play Go Tell Aunt Rhody with a battery-operated monkey chattering, laughing, and making kissy noises in your ear, you can safely say you know the piece well.
I made an actual dinner for dinner: maple dijon chicken legs (slow cooker) and roasted sweet potatoes with cranberries and walnuts. I hate cooking so so so much.
We finished Charlie and the Chocolate Factory today--L&G loved it--and started the second Pippi Longstocking book. Both girls chose to write for their pre-bedtime reading time (they get quadruple library points for writing). Lucia's been working on an All About My Monster book, based on the clay monster she made in her polymer clay class last week. Each day's addition is based on whatever clay project she did that day in class. ("My monster likes writing with a clay pen.") Greta tonight began a book detailing every one of our Cabbage Patches, which meant she had to ask me how to spell every single Cabbage Patch's name as she wrote them out in her stapled-together book.
A new addition to the endless bedtime ritual is the whispery, hysterical bathroom stage, after I've tucked them in and gone downstairs. They both sneak out of their rooms and go into the bathroom--and though they both do actually go to the bathroom, it takes forever as they become more and more hysterical; tonight, when I finally intervened, Greta could barely stand up she was laughing so hard. Who knows what they're laughing about; "Make sure you fly!!" she screeched to Lucia as I led her firmly out of the bathroom, and I could see Lucia, who was sitting on the toilet, begin wildly kicking her feet, scream-laughing. This is bedtime.
The pool is great but it was nice having an unformed day.
This isn't a new problem. Unidentified, middle-of-the-night beeping is A Thing in our house. A few months ago it was several nights of this, until Andrew discovered a forgotten carbon monoxide detector plugged in behind my office door. There is nothing, nothing, more frustrating.
A stormy stormy day meant no pool, but L&G were happy to have a day at home after their art classes. We had lunch and then made a trip to 5 Below, which I'd promised--a bribe to get Greta to re-learn the piano pieces she'd forgotten. We'd been lax in doing her review pieces during every practice session, and she just...forgot them. Completely. French Children's Song--gone. Lightly Row--gone. And she didn't want to work on relearning them. There was a lot, a lot, of whining. So, a bribe. There was still occasional whining, but by gum, she relearned every song.
At 5 Below, both girls picked out a furry notebook that looked like an animal face, and a blind bag of two mini Fingerling figurines. They were really excited about all of it, and spent the rest of the afternoon building an elaborate pillow fort and playing with the tiny Fingerlings and the larger Fingerlings they got for Christmas (and hadn't looked at since). The Fingerlings even helped Greta practice piano later in the afternoon. She insisted that the larger Fingerling stay on, chattering, even while she was playing; and if you're able to play Go Tell Aunt Rhody with a battery-operated monkey chattering, laughing, and making kissy noises in your ear, you can safely say you know the piece well.
I made an actual dinner for dinner: maple dijon chicken legs (slow cooker) and roasted sweet potatoes with cranberries and walnuts. I hate cooking so so so much.
We finished Charlie and the Chocolate Factory today--L&G loved it--and started the second Pippi Longstocking book. Both girls chose to write for their pre-bedtime reading time (they get quadruple library points for writing). Lucia's been working on an All About My Monster book, based on the clay monster she made in her polymer clay class last week. Each day's addition is based on whatever clay project she did that day in class. ("My monster likes writing with a clay pen.") Greta tonight began a book detailing every one of our Cabbage Patches, which meant she had to ask me how to spell every single Cabbage Patch's name as she wrote them out in her stapled-together book.
A new addition to the endless bedtime ritual is the whispery, hysterical bathroom stage, after I've tucked them in and gone downstairs. They both sneak out of their rooms and go into the bathroom--and though they both do actually go to the bathroom, it takes forever as they become more and more hysterical; tonight, when I finally intervened, Greta could barely stand up she was laughing so hard. Who knows what they're laughing about; "Make sure you fly!!" she screeched to Lucia as I led her firmly out of the bathroom, and I could see Lucia, who was sitting on the toilet, begin wildly kicking her feet, scream-laughing. This is bedtime.
The pool is great but it was nice having an unformed day.
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