So, I want to blog. But, as I mentioned on facebook and on googletalk to Melissa, my brand of blog is just not in style anymore. Sometimes I just don't know what to write about: the things that I hate, or the things that I love, or food, or the time that I yelled at my kids, or embarrassed myself in public, or what. Being mediocre or below-average at pretty much everything, particularly in the domestic art realm, makes beautifully photographed tutorials rather impossible for me. I could definitely do a tutorial on how to use a semi colon in a sentence, but does anyone want to read that?
So, anyway, I'm just in my usual blog identity crisis. I have one every few months. It coincides with a hairdentity crisis, too. Like right now: I'm a fat prego lady, but I really want to cut my hair. But will I regret it? Will a stylist even take that on (the last time I tried to get a cut while preg, the stylist wouldn't do it). I love shorter, chin-length hair with a bit of structure. But will that result in a feeling of mannishness as my thighs, arms, and face continue to thicken?
With all this going on, I decided to go with the old stand-by blog topic, my children. They are always my built-in excuse for everything (one of the major perks of having kids, by the way), so why not use them when I am out of blog inspiration? Here's an update of what they have been up to, because I know you want to know:
Holden: finished third grade with a bang, has come a long way from the first day of first grade, when I made a point to walk him to class, and said "this is Holden...he's a little behind on his reading" to his teacher. WHY DID I DO THAT? I felt so frantic at that time, so worried about the results of the disastrous bout of homeschooling we did for half of kindergarten that I felt a need to apologize in advance to his bewildered teacher. Ah me. . . . Now he reads at a ninth grade level and it turns out he's totally gifted, probably in part because I have kept my mouth shut and generally stayed out of things since that first day of first grade. There's an important lesson in this experience, but I am not cut out for advice-giving via blog posts. Holden is planning to be in the dogsled races this winter and is pretty much just biding his time until then. We bought a used dogsled for him, along with some military-strength mittens. He learned to make scrambled eggs this morning and wants to learn to cook more meals and do his own laundry this summer (score!!). He is fully prepared to become the primary care giver of Ruby when the baby is born. He hopes the baby is a boy. He also starting reading all the Harry Potter books, which fills my heart with more joy than can possibly be expressed. I can't wait for him to finish them so we can talk about them.
Hazel : graduated from preschool in an adorable ceremony, during which her teacher said that Hazel is "my little smarty-pants who really thinks about thinking." She didn't say that about all the kids, you know. Just Hazel. But bragging on a blog is distasteful. Hazel is excited for kindergarten and is totally stoked for a princess camp that she's participating in this summer. She talks about it every day: "Mom, I can't stop thinking about that princess camp." "Well, it's in one week," I respond. "You mean the day after this one?" she asks. This goes on and on. Hazel has no concept of time, for being a "smarty pants." When Ruby is throwing a fit, Hazel says "leave her to me" and sings to her. It sometimes works. She wants the baby to be a girl, because she currently feels outnumbered (wha???) Hazel plans to be my number one assistant with the new baby. She is always mad when she has to go to bed without any dessert. She loves dessert as only I do. Hazel needs a hair cut.
Ruby: is fully potty trained and almost accident-free, except for fifteen minutes ago when she had an accident on the rug. Dang. Seriously, she WAS accident-free for a long time. Ruby is in a thing called "Toddler Lab" at BYU-I. It sounds like they do experiments on her, but really it's just a precursor to preschool where they have a snack, play with toys, and blow bubbles. I am all about pre-preschool. And, when possible, pre-pre-preschool. Ruby's hair is getting longer and is heading into dangerous Steve Perry territory. The question is: do I cut it to avoid the 80s rock star mullet, or do I wait just a bit longer and see if it evens out. Her hair would easily go into a ponytail or pig tails, but she won't allow that. Ruby likes to look in the mirror when she eats, and her latest favorite phrase is "whew, that was close!" She is aware of the new baby on the way, but mainly because her mother is "sick and tired" all the time. (Ruby's other favorite phrase is "sick and tired.") Ruby knows her colors like a pro, but not because I use flashcards, sign language, or any other sort of formal teaching (remember, I learned to stay out of these things). Ruby's favorites are her dad and Holden: "I just love Holden," she often says, while hugging him. So tender.
There you have it. I am lucky that my kids are as awesome as they are. I mean, really. I often think about that while I am lying in bed listening to Holden get everyone breakfast in the morning. And I sometimes think it when I can hear them in the basement, watching TV, while I am lying on the couch.