That kind of day
Today is the kind of day where I start blogging and then discard everything I wrote because I realize that I’m telling the wrong story, or framing it in the wrong way. In fact today is the kind of day when I do that twice.
It is the kind of day which begins with Howard and I talking business as we bustle the kids off to school. Howard has to re-invent all of his work processes because his computer crashed to the blue screen of doom and the only solution was to reformat his drive and restore from back ups. Thankfully Howard is compulsive about backing up thoroughly. Then I buried myself in my office to plow through accounting work, which I was not looking forward to because it included a letter from the Utah State Tax Commission claiming that we owed them more money. (We didn’t, I explained it all over the phone to a nice man who agreed with me and shifted a mis-credited payment. $790 which stays in our pockets is a good thing.) The morning also included helping a business partner find a solution to an urgent problem and calculating funds against expenses and proposed purchases. Also, I shipped packages.
Today is the kind of day which takes a sharp left turn in the middle of it and spins off into something entirely different. Gleek was crying when I pulled up at school. I don’t think her whole day had been hard, but it ended in frustrated tears. Which almost brought me to tears because I don’t know how to fix it for her. Also I worry about next year and who her teacher will be. Gleek requires deft management or things go bad in a hurry. So today became the kind of day where I talk with school officials and neighbors, trying to piece together exactly what the budget cuts are going to do to the staffing of fourth grade. Teachers are being shifted all over the place. I’ve put in my requests and tried to make clear why my requests are not frivolous. Time will tell if I’m believed.
Today is also the kind of day where I sit down with Gleek and we weed three flowerbeds together. She seemed to enjoy the quiet together time and even expressed that pulling weeds was a good solution to angry feelings. I agreed. Gardening is calming for me as well. At the end of the work, Gleek was hot. Then today became the kind of day where we break out the swimsuits, turn on the sprinklers, and invite neighbor kids from four different houses to come and splash. I stood outside for more than an hour catching a toddler at the bottom of the slide and regulating trampoline turns. The crowd of children grouped and regrouped as games were created and abandoned. I listened to the words of the four-and-under crowd, amazed once again that persons so small could express such complicated thoughts with limited vocabulary. I watched them all and loved them all. It was the kind of day where I am grateful once again for the neighbors that I have.
I left the yard to create dinner, which started with a bag of Spanish Rice mix, but expanded into a Mexican food sampler with black beans, refried beans, and grilled chicken. Then it became the kind of day when I spoon small amounts of new foods onto the kids plates and insist that they try everything. I also said they had to pick three things to eat completely. Gleek and Patch both eschewed the refried beans. Link left a pile of grilled chicken. Kiki abandoned the black beans. Good thing I provided variety. Fortunately I also made the last of the Easter eggs into deviled eggs. (Did I mention that we only got around to coloring eggs yesterday? Easter tradition was delayed by book.) The kids filled up on the eggs mostly.
At the end, today became the kind of day where we pile everyone in the car to go buy gelato (Italian ice cream) from Mia Terra. We sat at the high counter and told a round robin story which petered out into absurdity. But no quarrels were had and at home the kids read until lights out.
Next it will be the kind of day where I fall asleep hoping for tomorrow to be just as good, but perhaps a little emptier.
