Moods lately like late-summer storms: cloudy, then a few huge teardrops, then thunder, then, magically, all clear again. All hail the first day of school and the moodiness it brings. Normally, we would try to plan this whole enterprise into the ground, but this year we procrastinated until the absolute last minute. Just had a few quick conversations, sent him off to school, and whammo--he refuses to go in until one of his fave teachers comes out and leads him into the classroom. A few hours later, home comes this exquisite piece of artwork.
If you sort of squint, you can see that Isaac wrote his name on top, though the "A" and "C" sort of mush together at the end. Yay for my boy. The original is, naturally, on the fridge, in a place of honor.
Normally I would refrain from pee humor (as you know, I am so very delicate) but this is one is worth it. Beata, now back from Poland (for which I thank all the deities I am aware of) relayed this charming tale: the other day, Isaac was relieving himself when she noticed that his aim had been, shall we say, a little faulty. So she pointed this out. He paused, looked down, and uttered the following lovely sentence: "Dammit, I missed!"
All good things, no? And yet. Tonight I picked up the boys at (or as it turned out, outside) a pizza restaurant. Apparently there was a very friendly little girl at the next table who came over and wanted to talk to Isaac. She tried twice, at which point Mr. Hard-to-Get stood up, walked out of the restaurant and refused to go back in. When I got there, J, and he were standing outside, and J. looked a little deflated. We picked up some dinner and came home, where I am now typing this while watching the completely incomprehensible Aeon Flux with the sound off. The set looks a lot, as J and I agreed, like Teletubby Land.
It helps to think in year increments: where we were a year ago, two years ago, and where we are now. Now is better, hands down.