November 19, 2008

• Nanowrimo has eaten my soul and left a mere shell of a human being.  I passed the 20K mark swearing I was never going to write another word in my life and now I’m just shy of 30K, the home stretch is in view and I’ve benevolently forgiven the world, my family and even my main character who is really more uninteresting than a baptist preacher who talks too much about too little.   Even if I delete the entire ill fated manuscript at the end of this month, the experience and mental work out will have been worth every word squeezed out of my painfully out of shape brain.   Not sure if Jim, Jamie and Charlie will ever let me do it again, but so far everyone is still alive, the house has looked worse (once or twice) and nobody’s complaining about the pb&j sandwiches (or if they are, I’m not listening).

  Jamie started speech therapy yesterday which was a smashing success (insert sarcasm).   He pretty much refused to particapate unless you count beating the other kids over the head with a fire truck he fell in love with.   He goes again tomorrow,  I’m hoping it goes better.  At this point I’m convinced he’s going to have a brilliant career as a rebellious mime.  Maybe he’ll get a job at disney land. 

  Last week was insane, but in a good sort of deranged craziness.  We were in Pasadena on Monday and Tuesday where we got our weekly fix of good food and even better company with the Lane/Threadgill duo, before I jogged (metaphorically) on down to Yorba Linda and re connected with Rachelle who I hadn’t hung out with since doing CI’s with her…oh ten years ago?   She has a very exhuberant husband and a darling baby, and I left just in time for her to be evacuated this weekend from all the fires.  Yikes.  
  Then it was up to the mountains for Nathan’s birthday party, a whirlwind visit with more friends and then back down to San Diego on Saturday where we stopped and hit up the farmers market with a few of my favorite people.   The place sported one of those big, blow up slides which Jamie beheld in such awe it only took him moments before he started begging and pleading us to let him go down it.   I was not raised with such frivolous indulgence and so it was with a heart of stone I calmly refused his desparate pleas.  His father on the other hand was not nearly so firm handed as I, and so before I knew it Uncle Jeff and Jamie were climbing the gigantic, air stuffed slide and the look of sheer terror, joy and adrenalin on Jamie’s face when he went careening down, made me snort with amusement and well justified the 50 cents.  Spoiled kid.

  Not as spoiled as Charlie however, who has recently decided to howl like an injured banshee whenever nobody’s paying attention to him.  The first time it happened Jim and I were both  convinced the kid was either having an epileptic fit or something was pinching him dreadfully.  Neither proved to be true however, Charlie just discovered that if he quivers his bottom lip and squeezes out great big tears then people will be moved by pity to pick him up.   ::Sigh::  Gone are the days where he only cried if he was hungry, tired or in pain.  I rather preferred the itty bitty stage and it went by way too quickly.

  I just unearthed my memory cards from the week and these are the first to emmerge from the wreckage.

  The darling Isabella.

   

  • 3:28 am
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