Daily Diary

Friday is here. Bummer. I need it to be Wednesday. Last night I had Cocktail Club-I must confess that I'm not a cocktail gal, and so I either have water or a glass of wine. Yesterday's drink was Mai Tai- orange juice with turpentine floating at the top. However, the company is good. We had a clothing swap, so everyone brought bags of clothes and other stuff that they don't want. I nearly bailed at the last minute having so much to do at home, but I did finally leave the school room at 8:30pm and head over.

There were four or five loads of laundry piled high on the sofa- which Jon folded while I was gone. That was very nice. During the week, I'll wash, dry, and then lay the clothes out in piles so they don't wrinkle. But other than that, I don't generally have a chance to fold. I'll fold things as I have a moment- and the laundry room doesn't exist. I have a garage entry with a washer and dryer against the wall. This rather complicates the process. I did put most of the kids clothes back in storage- which means we have a finite amount of laundry now.

Our computer tech, Curtis, aka Jon's cousin, might be moving to Manhatten. He has to make a decision about it today. What will I do!? But then I'll be able to stay with him when I want to scope out the city. I have lots of time to hop on planes and take personal vacations.

In other news, Vivian has 2 teeth with two more about to poke through. She is hilarious, crawling around all day, getting into things, shaking her head and making her shoulders go up and down. A total ham and irresistible. But she's another impediment to a productive school day. I've been placing one of the toy bins in the doorway of the nursery to keep her from wandering down the hall and into the school room. She'll play for a little while and then go stand at the bin watching for someone to walk past. When she sees one of us, she hollers and then does her big grin with long blinks-a plea to be rescued. If that doesn't work, she starts to yell excitedly. If that doesn't work, she breaks down into the most anguished sobs, and I turn into a pile of goo, and of course must rescue her. She's got me well trained. I feel like we have city warfare in the upstairs hall. I need to run to the kitchen for something. Wait. Is the hall safe. I pause at the doorway, and listen carefully. I take a little tiny peek, she's not there! I run for it. Oh, no, I can hear her crawling to the nursery door. How will I get back to the school room?......crazy. I think that to solve this problem, she should go to work with Jon.

Off to get the sleepy heads out of bed.....