21 January 2010


I call this post "Thankful" or, if you prefer, "Ode to Excessive Parenthesis."

As my ceiling gets replaced (see why here) I am trying to be thankful.

The pressure machine is blowing (argh- new!) popcorn onto my dining room and sun room ceiling. Loudly. All the furniture that usually goes in those two rooms is in the living room (all the dirty construction footprints have been trekking across my newly cleaned carpet, by the way).

Yesterday I was enjoying a sparkling home, waiting for Jackson's Contenders meeting to start. The construction crew just showed up with no call, no warning. So we had the meeting in the garage (hey- something else to be thankful for, that it was clean(ish) and (mostly) empty!). It went pretty well, I think, and they tore my ceiling out and replaced the sheet rock. Today they're finishing up, which includes mopping the floor a few times.

Which explains why I am posting so late.

I would post pictures if I knew how to load them onto this (new to me)Mac (another thing to be thankful for). Oh- and my 8 year-old Claire said that if she could, she would have Nathan's diaper rash for him. And when I was proud of that sacrificial statement, she said she'd also suffer through my allergies for me. I told her she was like Christ if she wanted to sacrifice for others.

And my Cactus Flower grabbed a towel and wiped her baby brother's eyes when he got water in them while they bathed together. Aww. And (don't tell anyone) my son had an accident and remembered to take the sheets off his bed and bring them out in the hall!

What did this same six year old do last week that stopped me in my tracks? Oh, he not only took the empty roll off of the toilet paper thing, but HE REPLACED IT WITH A NEW ROLL. You know how I knew? He put the free end under instead of over (I put it over and no one else puts new rolls on). They (all) put the new roll on the counter or the back of the tank. It was like an era was over when I found that roll on.

Speaking of ends of ages, my baby/not baby is about to outgrow the little size 5 Vans. All four of my kids have worn this one little pair of blue shoes- now what? If I bronze them it would be like bronzing my ovaries.

I'm so pleased you're reading Higher Education!
Click on the post title to leave a comment.

Teresa (Tracy) Dear

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