I’m often deeply inspired by reading day-to-day accounts of the lives of the others who choose to live at home with their kids. And so, because I’m wide awake after a great day, I’ll share our day with you.
I woke up around 7:30, as usual, and did a quick exercise video. A moment on the computer to check email, and then the sound of size 11 feet (the little 11, of course) pit-patting overhead. I went back upstairs and cuddled with JediBoy in the big bed for about half an hour - talking, recounting dreams, hiding under the covers, having a tickle battle, and reading through about 3 books of fingerplays and songs (one was an unusual version of Here We Go Round the Mulberry Bush, the other two were by Marc Brown) because I’d like both of us to be reminded of these songs before GuateGirl arrives this summer.
Down to breakfast - his favorite cereal is Special K Red Berry; mine is Kashi Wild Blueberry. I glance at the paper and he asks me questions about what’s in it.
I toss in some laundry (hoping to find two matching soccer socks in the hamper - the biggest socks seem to be the most wily) and we sit on the couch and look at the snow.
I start a knitting project which is intended for PisecoSis (but I won’t tell what!) and JediBoy comes for help with his hat project he’s loom knitting for his favorite doll, Quizzeabah. (Yes, he invented that name upon receiving a doll for his second birthday, and has steadfastly stuck with it ever since. No, we did not let him name GuateGirl.) I help him, then he asks to work on the project for PisecoSis. He works a while, then we put on some music (Galway Meditations) and he leafs through a pile of books.
I try something that’s too hard, make a hole in the project, have to rip some out, toss it on the couch in frustration and storm away. JediBoy follows me, pats my back, and says in his most gentle voice, “It’s okay, Mom. You got the mad out.”
We read stories from Richard Scarry. He likes Professor Dig.
Time for an early lunch, I think. We usually split a can of soup - today it’s chicken noodle. He’s still eating and I flip the laundry again. I come back up and he tells me, “I spilled some milk, but I cleaned it up.” Me: “Thank you.” JediBoy: “Thank you for SPILLING THE MILK? Ha ha ha!”
The phone rings: it’s our adoption agency! The DNA test results are in, and the woman releasing GuateGirl is definitely her biological mother. That means we can move forward with the paperwork, first to get preapproval (4-6 weeks) and then to get the formal approval from the GuateGovt (6-9 weeks) so we’re thinking mid-June. I hang up the phone and we do a dance of glee - these results came in 2 weeks early! Anything that happens EARLY in this process is a major miracle.
When we’re done dancing, JediBoy asks why we were dancing. We have a long and loopy talk about blood, DNA, genetics, biology, fingerprints, etc. I run to the computer to email friends and family with the good news.
We’re back in the living room - it’s funny how different days our life centers on different rooms. Today we were all about the living room. I’m folding laundry and reading to him out of last week’s thrift store find: a book about King Arthur. He is loving all these stories and has been acting out the Sword in the Stone sequence when he’s playing by himself. We read about Merlin and Vivien as well as Gawaine.
The mail comes, including a baby magazine, a bill, an ad, and a Camp Fire Kids book we bought from eBay last week. PisecoDad was a full-on Boy Scout, all the way through to Eagle, troop leader etc. But I have strong feelings against the homophobic stance of the national offices and don’t want my son growing up in that atmosphere. I am searching for something that will let PisecoDad share with JediBoy all the good camping/scouting experiences he remembers without having to give our time and energy to BSA. We’re looking into Camp Fire Kids, although there is no local council so we’d be independent.
Another project is started for PisecoSis by JediBoy: this one involving a pile of paper and a heap of about 50 markers in the middle of the living room. We work together for a while.
It’s all calm and quiet. Late in the afternoon I call PisecoDad to talk about dinner before he leaves the office. As I get off the phone, JediBoy wants to try pouring with two tiny pitchers we bought at the thrift store. I can’t find rice I’m willing to spare (I thought I had a box of leftover white, but I couldn’t put my hands on it) so I give him the bottom of a container of tomato-basil couscous. It looked very pretty in the pitchers and was fun for him to pour.
The only problem was that the pitchers we found have very small openings on top and I’d been meaning to save them until he’d been working with other pitchers a while. He was too excited to wait, though, so we wound up with couscous in the carpet.
Yank out the vacuum! I tried to plug in the hose and saw a wad of stuff in the machine. I tried to pull it out, only to find the clown-car of vacuums: more hairballs, dust bunnies, and other disgusting yuck than you could possibly imagine would fit in there.
This led to us taking the bottom off, discovering that the belt had broken anyway, clearing all the nasties out of the machine, hand washing the brush roller, attaching the new belt, changing the bag that was way beyond needing to be changed… my lesson here is that when I found out that JediBoy had a severe dust allergy and I started working much harder to vacuum more frequently, I should have also increased the frequency with which I, say, emptied the bag. Oops. Lesson learned, and JediBoy got to see the insides of the vacuum.
There was a big clog inside the hose too (a tissue) which we finally shook loose by taking the hose to the tub and blasting water through it.
PisecoDad came home and we had dinner. I left for choir and he and JediBoy headed out. Apparently, JediBoy asked to go to the mall “to stretch [his] legs.” Which they did, parking at one end and working their way to the other end and back. They also stopped at Target on the way home to buy, yes, new soccer socks. Where are these things? Why were they not near the soccer shirt or soccer shorts? Why did we find one lone black soccer sock at the foot of our bed? The world may never know. (Cr-runch.)
I came home from choir and noticed something very cool in the snow near our porch: opossum tracks. They are so neat looking, just like tiny handprints. (Well, if you only had three fingers, you know.) I rushed in and grabbed JediBoy, carried him out in his stocking feet so he could see them. He was very excited and interested and wanted to follow the trail, but I was able to convince him it would be okay to wait until morning. We have an affinity for opossums here - PisecoDad and I used to volunteer with the zoo and we’d take a bunch of animals around to schools and community centers, and two of the animals we worked with were possums called Felix and Oscar. Then the summer JediBoy turned two, a mother possum was hit in the road right in front of our house and we were able to rescue the babies from her pouch (they were so tiny!) and take them to a local wildlife rehabber. So seeing tracks in the yard was extra cool.
While I’ve been writing, PisecoDad has read and sung JediBoy to sleep and has probably gone to sleep himself. I’m heading up there as soon as I finish this. Good night, all!
