Sweetpea appears at my side of the bed, tugging on the covers.
"Mama, I had a bad dream. Can I snuggle you?"
She rarely looks frightened, just wants a little love and reassurance.
The first few times it happened she stayed all night, but we have a tiny bed (a converted single waterbed) and the muscle cramps suggested that that wasn't such a great idea.
After a while, I would let her cuddle a while, then (when the aches started) I'd walk with her back to her room and get in her bed (until I was sure she was asleep) and then escape back to my own bed.
If you haven't guessed by now though, I'm essentially a lazy being and I love my sleep. Recently I've begun whispering in her ear--time to go back to bed.
And she does.
She really is the sweetest thing, ever.
Last night she climbed in and after only about 5 minutes I had to face a painful truth--she'd woken me enough that a trip to the bathroom was in order. I felt bad about shortchanging her on her snuggles and was going to suggest that I join her in her bed after I finished in the bathroom. I gave her a little nudge:
"I need to pee Sweetpea. Can you go back to your bed?"
Up she sprang and in the most cheerful notes imaginable sang out:
Basically, we started our week by being told that the province's health system was being restructured from 8 regions to 2, with massive changes to more than just structure. Startling enough on it's own, but my dh works for one of the regions and we now have no idea how this is going to affect (effect? I can't believe I still get those two mixed up) his job. We're waiting for decisions to be made and word to trickle down. It's not a happy place. The plan itself actually sounds somewhat reasonable (if you ignore the provincial language issues) but very stressful for our family. The truth is in the details.
Then, as if that wasn't enough for one week, the Education Minister announced that he was scrapping Early French Immersion. Now we've never been big fans of the test scores for New Brunswick schools, but one of the things we were impressed with was it's excellent French Immersion program. The Princess is in French Immersion and already doing great things. Her teacher is wonderful and expects greatness--and she gets it. Low test scores can be dealt with, academics can be supplemented at home--our kids are there for the benefits of getting that great French Immersion. Now that's gone. The Princess is safe, she falls under the grandfather clause, but the other two are out of luck. I think we'll be doing what we can, but neither of us speaks french, so we're really limited here. Plus, a ton of terrific teachers now have to worry about their futures, as the government has once again announced big changes with few details.
In other, less dramatic, news we found out last night that Sweetpea will be having the same Kindergarten teacher that the Princess had. This is good news because the Princess LOVES this teacher and Sweetpea has heard nothing but good things about her. She's so excited. I think it will be a good year.
Also, the Boy is entering the dreaded "poop" stage. You know the one, where everything is funnier if you just say poop? Yah, that stage. I'd read about it on the internet but thought I'd dodged the bullet. I guess not.
Hey--maybe HE'S been reading the internet? Hey internet, tell my boy that poop ISN'T THAT FUNNY!
My open letter to Februrary did receive some feedback (and it was positive--yay!). Now Alice has written a letter to March that I think you'll find enjoyable. I did.
Of course March wrote back to Alice. I guess because she's famous and published and stuff like that. February never wrote me. Not that I wanted February to write me, we're not exactly friends, and I wasn't trying to start a flame war. March might be though. March is a little rude. Check it out.
I know I haven't posted in awhile. It's been a strange conflation of things/thoughts happening when I can't get to the computer and then being forgotten or seeming irrelevant by the time I get my turn.
(Having missed two Sundays in a row due to weather I have a great version of "We Thank Thee O God For a Snowday" in my head, but always got to the computer Monday afternoon, and it just seemed silly to post it then.)
Last week was March Break. I had plans, and the best thing about plans is getting to blog about them afterwards. BUT. We had 3 ice storms and just overall crummy weather, so we went no where and did nothing. Oh sure, we lay around in our pj's, watching too many movies, reading books and taking naps, but none of it was really blog worthy*.
The week just wandered on past. Really? It's Wednesday? Thursday? Monday? This week has done the same. Friday? Really? Huh. How'd that happen? The month is half over and I haven't even gotten the Primary Newsletter started. Of course, we haven't been to church in March, so that may have something to do with this drifting feeling.
Before anyone worries, I'm not really depressed. February is gone and it took the blues with it (thank goodness). I'm taking my vitamins and getting more energy. The house is slowly getting cleaned and reorganized, and if I don't find my old schedule soon I'll be making a new one...eventually.
And there's the crux of the matter. I have a life with no deadlines. Nothing pushing me to get anything done. No lessons or appointments, and no rush to make any (hey, I tried during March Break and then had to cancel all my plans when Mother Nature laughed in my face). The days pass by in a lazy grey haze.
We need spring.
We need yard sales and gymnastics, visits from friends and play dates, preschool program at the library and a big NSD (National Scrapbook Day) crop to kick us into gear. ANY Gear. First would be acceptable. Anything but idling in neutral any longer.
Fortunately, all of those things are right there on my calender. Less than a week until SPRING (which happens to be my baby brother's birthday). Easter. Sweetpea's birthday. Whether Mother Nature feels like co-operating or not, we'll be kicking off winter shortly.
In the meantime, I have a book to read and a child at my elbow wondering if it's her turn to play Webkinz yet.
*Ok, so the girls had their very first "sleepover". But it went really well and was rather uneventful. Just a nice visit that my meager talents couldn't turn into funny or insightful or anything. So it didn't get blogged. Sorry.
Last night I caught some of a new game show called Amnesia. The show tests contestants on their knowledge of their OWN life.
I was interested as soon as I saw the commercials. How well could you remember your own life? Oooh, tricky! My memory may as well be a colander for all the good it does me. I often forget or, worse, misremember large chunks of my life, chunks that one would think would be important to me.
(Yet I can remember TV episodes and movies BETTER than my own life. It's a strange brain I have.)
Unfortunately, I started losing interest almost at the beginning, when Dennis Miller (an unlikely host) did his intro and asked the audience if we could remember our high school locker combination.
I could hardly remember that sucker at the time! The last couple of years I had to have it in my hand to tell you the number. I just spun it, I didn't look! Unfair!
(Of course my best friend from back then could probably still tell you my locker combination. That girl doesn't forget a thing! I'd like to see her play this game. She'd completely clean up!)
The next task was to tell the host what her current weight was. She had to be accurate to within a pound. Again, HUH? My weight fluctuates at least 2-3 pounds every day. Um, doesn't everyone's? I could probably give you my weight within a 5 pound range on any given day, but accurate to 1 pound? Do people really know this? Is that normal?
Apparently it is, because she got it right. ON. THE. NOSE.
She totally deserves the money for that!
(and perhaps I should mention this weight thing to my doctor?)
Then they had the best test of the evening--they went into her living room and removed one item. They then showed her the picture of her living room and asked her what was missing. If they had taken one of the kid's toys I would have declared the show too unfair, but they took her area rug. Hee Hee.
Yes, she knew what was missing; and no, I probably wouldn't have known.
So I stuck in there and kept watching....until I realized that I just didn't care.
Here's the problem: I don't know this woman. I don't know her life, I don't know the answers to most of the questions. I'm not in on the joke. The audience participation, the joy of KNOWING the answer and shouting it at the screen from the safety of your own couch, is missing. I could watch her try to remember, and I wanted her to win (sort of, she didn't seem to need the money particularly), I just didn't care enough to keep watching. I turned it off long before it ended and went to bed.
Although as a family/friends/college/high school reunion game? When you KNOW the person playing and maybe remember some of the answers? Great idea. Someone call the folks at Cranium :)
Oh, and KJ, if you read this? You should definitely audition for this show. Just don't have them ask me anything, because we both know I won't remember.
The title of this blog comes from my best friend's mom; who critiqued my high school English journal as "full of superfluous fluff". This is where I embrace all that fluff and share it with you in its pure, unedited, rambling glory.