I don't run. I don't believe in running. It's against my religion, except for exactly two cases: Someone bad is chasing me, or I'm about to miss a bus.
On Friday morning, I had to run.
For the latter reason, thank goodness, but still. Me running, with my shorts riding up on my thighs and boobs a-bouncin', is not a pretty sight. Or feeling.
And thus began my day.
The kids made the bus, and then Jack and I turned around and went home to get in Vanna and ride to his appointment with Jan, the physical therapist at the Pediatric Neurodevelopment clinic. She was going to fit his legs and feet for the braces he'll be wearing at night, to stretch his Achilles tendon.
We waited just a short time before Jan called him in. He played awhile while she and I talked about him, and about the four years that have passed since she last saw him for his late walking (20 months) and subsequent tip-toeing. She was so amazed at how he's grown long and skinny, and how he talks now (he was also in speech therapy back then, for his muteness)! Then it was time to make the casts, which will make the molds, which will make the braces.
He asked about a million questions during the procedure, during which Jan put socks on him to keep the fiberglass cast from sticking to him. The yellow thing was just a guide for cutting it off him without cutting him. She deemed his questions - not just about the braces but also about all the wheelchairs and other equipment in her room - to be very smart, saying she has 25-year-olds who don't think to ask those things! She thought he was very intelligent and was surprised to hear there had been a chance he might be retained in kindergarten. Her thoughts? That he's advanced and was just bored! I don't know, but it'll be interesting to see what happens when he's tested for "gifted" later this year.
Making the casts didn't take long at all, and at the end, he was happy to post with his "legs". They looked enormous compared to him, but she assured me they'll fit just fine. (And you can see here how crooked his glasses have gotten; I really need to take him in and get them adjusted.)
{Side note: when we did his homework the other night, he was able to read all the color words in the instructions, without help. Yay, Jack!}
The whole appointment didn't last terribly long, and we were home by 1100. I decided to make him lunch at home, and he wanted scrambled eggs. He quickly scarfed two and asked for two more, which he barely ate. (Lucky for the dog, who hardly ever gets treated to table scraps.) He sucked down some milk, and then we were off to school!
Well.
At school, my happy boy turned into a different creature. A clinging, crying, bashful little creature. His daily routine had been disrupted, and now he didn't want to go to school at all. He wanted to stay home with Mommy. The guidance counselor, Ms. Henry, came down to talk to him, and the security desk person, Ms. Woods, tried enticing him out of my arms with colorful pencils and other treats. He refused to budge. In the end, I had to kiss and hug him good-bye and push him off down the hall with Ms. Henry. He was sobbing. It was awfully hard.
Then I made a big mistake.
You see, I have used three Wrap-n-Mats for a couple years now, when I pack lunches and what-not, and they are really great for cutting disposable waste. I love them. So now that I have three lunches to pack, I ordered three more to have on hand. On the first day of school, with a reminder every day thereafter, I talked to the kids about making sure not to throw the mats away. (And as an aside, I really want to get some of the snack pouches when I can afford them, too!) Two or three days into school, Sophia's mat came up missing. I asked her about it, and she said her teachers had taken it away from her. Wha? So, anyway, after calling unsuccessfully to find out if they had the mat at school, I decided to stop in after taking Jacky to school, to see if it was there. I needed my mat, y'all.
Big mistake.
Sophie was ecstatic to see me. Though she's come home happy every day from school, I've been forgetting to post here that she's also said she's cried every day, wanting to be with me. (Breaks my heart.) She ran into my arms, hugging and cooing, and wouldn't let go, even after I determined from her teacher that they didn't have the mat. She sobbed when I tried to leave. Much coaxing, again, was needed for my child to let go that day. It was awful.
I was so stupid to go in there the first week, while she was still adjusting. Dumb dumb dumb! I should have waited. Poor thing.
So I went home and felt awful for the next long time, about both my children. I called and talked to Ms. Henry, who said Jack was fine after I left, and all the children greeted him at his classroom. And she checked on him later at lunch, and he was all grins and smiles. I'm sure Sophie was fine too, but still, it weighed on me.
Later, I got a call from someone at Harris Teeter, wanting to schedule an interview! I am going in at noon on Monday. I'm not really nervous about it - as I shouldn't be - except for the nose ring thing. I can NOT get it out. It won't budge. Shee-it.
The Schwan's guy had come Thursday night, but I hadn't put an order in (not in months, actually), so we didn't get anything. But I took a catalog and flipped through it, deciding it was time to restock the deep freezer. I called up our guy, and he agreed to deliver the order a few hours later! Sweet. And thank goodness for their delayed payment program, because I needed it this time.
While I waited for him to arrive, I cleaned out the freezer, deep freezer, and part of the fridge, taking stock of what we already had on hand. (I also did the dishes and cleaned out the dishwasher. Gotta be productive after napping Tues-Weds-Thurs!) Then I got my notebook and made a menu plan for the rest of September, to make sure we would have enough to eat. I never do this. It will surely help, not only in not running short, but in making life easier without having to think about what to make for dinner. I'm already liking it.
When Rob came home, he was excited to tell me the news: He'd been taking his motorcycle class on Thursday and Friday, and he passed this time!! The road test too!! He still needs to take the DMV road test, but this is great. Can I get a "Yay, Bob!"?
We got the girls dressed up in their soccer uniforms, and I took Sophie to her practice while Rob drove the other two to Chloë's. Jack wanted to be with his dad. Sophia must have been really tired, because she mostly just stood around with her thumb in her mouth, twiddling her hair, while the other girls played and ran drills. When she wasn't doing that, she was running around the field on her own, not listening or paying attention. I was thinking, great, he's going to think she's such a pain in the ass!
I wanted to gauge his opinion of Sophie so far, so I talked to Coach after practice about getting her used to playing soccer and what we can do to help her. He wasn't off-put by her behavior at all, having coached four-year-olds for several years and seeing the same in even his own daughters. So that was a relief, and I got lots of good pointers, too. Plus he's giving me a pair of cleats in her size that he can't use anymore. She already has some, but a spare pair can never hurt!
She played on the playground for a few minutes, and then we went home to start dinner. To make things simple - because I hadn't prepared Jack for what we would be eating, and he needs some forewarning to get used to the idea - I just popped in a Schwan's frozen pizza. We had some of their frozen apple blueberry cobbler still from the last time, so I decided to use that for dessert. Everyone ate well, including The Boy, and there were four single-serve cobblers in the box, so everybody got one. Only, nobody liked it! Rob ended up eating all of them while I gave the kids ice cream. Hee. Won't be ordering that again... ;)
Stay tuned for Saturday's update!
Fin.
P.S. We found that missing lunch mat today, under the kitchen table. Whoops.
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