The Waiting Game

Back when Big A and his sister were tiny and being pesky and their dad was single parenting and busy, they'd play a game that had one rule and one objective: the player who was silent longest won. I know about this game because Big A tried to institute this game with our kids--perhaps a decade ago-- and failed spectacularly.

I'm not surprised--At and Nu were in charge of the raita today as I juggled the various tasks toward egg-paratha rolls (Big A's Boss Day pick) and every step of the way was chatter, and jokes, and negotiation (if I measure the cumin you should get the salt, I washed the cucumbers so you should wash the tomatoes, and on and on and on and on). I read somewhere that families should support kids learning to advocate and negotiate for themselves, but yesterday... I was torn between chuckling and wanting to     shut     it     down. The smoke alarm going off (as it does every time we fry up more than 10 parathas didn't help).

Still waiting to hear about things at work... but now I have a tower of toffee tea cakes, well watered plants, fully wrapped Christmas presents (not pictured), and a dwindling supply of unrefrigerated fruit to keep me company.

"Yes or no or maybe"

Big A set the kids to deep clean the bookshelves in their rooms, and Dori Chaconas's Momma, Will You? didn't make the cut. (The last time we did bedroom library evals, I convinced manipulated Nu into keeping it on a shelf of keepsakes.) But this lovely, lovely book that reminds me of the heft of a baby in my lap and a super cuddler by my side will now live in my upstairs library for ever.

For ever ever.

Because my human kids are eight years apart, this was a book I read to too-old-At and too-young-Nu, but they too still remember the refrain of "Yes or no or maybe;" the sometimes silly requests of the kids ("Momma will you wash the pig?/ Yes, or no or maybe?/In the tub! He's not too big./ Wash him with our baby."); and the always lovely and wise responses of the Momma: ("No, we will not catch a wren/ for wild things should fly free./ But I will sing a song for you,/And you sing one for me.")

I'm fairly certain I got this book from the Beavercreek Goodwill in 2008 or so, but I am so happy to see that it's still in print and seems to be universally appreciated. 

"Early" Morning Run

Big A and I took off at 9:30, so not early, at all... but the kids were all still asleep when we came back at 10:30... so at least morning run?

And somewhere in there when I needed to catch my breath, we found these mallards just chilling on a patch of river ice. Heh... chilling.

I had hoped to hear a decision from the Title IX office this week, but we got nothing. I'm worried this is going to drag on into next year.

Find the five differences...

First!

I got to bookclub first, with my signed copy of Rainbow Rowell's sweet debut Eleanor and Park for the book exchange. (Reusing book, bag, and tissue paper here. Hola!)

Half-an hour later, the place was all raucous exuberance, with discussions hilariously veering off course. The book was Tayari Jones's An American Marriage and the loudest, longest discussion SOMEHOW became: which famous prisoner would you write to?

A Slob Story

At took off to protest the President's rally in Battle Creek today, despite my protest that it might get too violent especially since impeachment was expected to drop.

But he went (in his "Abolish I.C.E." tee!) and came back with some great stories--the young man who told MAGAs they were bigots (turned out his dad had been deported two months ago); volunteers from the National Lawyers Guild making sure the police were neutral; that everyone had a fit of the giggles when they started playing the Cats soundtrack.

But before he came back with these stories, I was waiting up for him, monitoring the news and Twitter for signs that things weren't going well... and when I heard that the president had called a protester "a slob" I was sure he was talking about my boy, who'd left in an oversized jacket with pockets full of YDSA buttons.

Adoptions

At LD's office to finish wrapping all the gifts for the family the girlfriends adopted from EVE,  and I discovered a perfect sunset shot as we stacked the presents and cleaned up our mess...

I'm thinking ahead too Thursday's CASA hearing, and how the path to adoption for a six-year-old--whose life has been upended by family opioid addiction since they were two--might finally be in the clear.

I think this may be the year I keep my promise to myself and not go overboard with presents for the family. We adopted a bunch of present requests from the UU last Sunday and there are some requests from United Way at work as well, so I've been able to do all the planning and shopping without overwhelming anyone. (Perhaps! There's another week before Christmas.)