Tuesday, September 27, 2011

Crappy Wait Staff, Dancing Divas, and Going Commando (or not)

I promise, I'm doing the best I can. I'm pooped! I pulled out of the driveway at 6:20 this morning and didn't get home until 7:45. I can't even type without having to continually backspace and respell. So, here's another shake down of my day in pictures. Maybe I'll have enough energy and time to actually put some kind of wisdom onto this page soon.

Grant has been working toward a 50 mile bike ride for a scouting badge. After these endurance runs, he walks funny for a few days! :)

He (and my dad) made it 26 miles on the Silver Comet Trail. Whew! He didn't like this trail as much because of (and I quote), "All of those old ladies walking at the speed of backwards make it hard to ride! I'm afraid of knocking one of them down and breaking their hips!" Such wisdom for an 11 year old. My reply to him was simply, "Please don't knock them down. They are older and have much more insurance than we do!" (Think Fried Green Tomatoes)!

And then, there's the morning glory call from Annie! She stands on her stool and waits for her milk and breakfast. I didn't get it ready to go fast enough this morning so she went into pout mode. Hey, I know I'm deficient in the kitchen. This is why I'm not a cook OR a waitress! She did stiff me on the tip! See if she gets service with a smile tomorrow morning!

Annie discovered babies. Believe it or not, this terror is actually very gentle (or she was while she was being eyed by three adults). She LOVES her little cousin and was quite envious of his paci! (We've told her that we need to give her pacis to him since HE is a baby)! Nope. Didn't work.

So, we did the trial class at ballet / tap today. Annie was SO excited! She hung from the windowsill watching the older girls.

When it was her turn, she was a bit intimidated at first and didn't understand being in a group setting AND having to following instructions instead of give them. My blood pressure was rising as I noticed that I could see the cracks of all of the other little girls through their leotards meaning that they were NOT wearing diapers and (hopefully) potty trained. Since there were no Code Yellows (or browns) on the floor, I assume that I am correct. It was Wizard of Oz day at dance so the girls all dressed up like Dorothy, danced over the rainbow (with the disco ball on), and marched around the yellow brick road. It was cute. Now, I just have to decide if I really want to do this every week. Yes, she'd enjoy it but is it really worth the money at this age? Decisions, decisions.

She liked the ballet shoes she borrowed but the tap shoes were the big deal. What two year old wouldn't love shoes that amplify every stomp they make? She acted like a professional tap dancer and kept jumping around. By this part of the lesson, she'd warmed up to the teacher and tried to commandeer her as her own personal dance slave. It worked momentarily until the teacher realized she'd been had! Anyway, she enjoyed it and talked about it for the rest of the night!
There's the daily wrap up. I'm heading to put a load of underwear in the wash so there's no drama tomorrow morning about having to go commando because of my inadequacies as a maid. Geez. I purposed that everyone simply turn their undies inside out or turn the front to the back but Grant was not amused and Dasha didn't get it. AND, of course, Annie could care less. She's more interested in what character is on her panties than what she's put in them or if they're clean! (Anyone have a carpet cleaner)? So, I'm going to bed to collapse. Hopefully, I'll find the time and energy to update my "soul status" before Christmas!

Good night, all.

P.S. - Dasha is still here and intact. She's had an incredible amount of homework (classwork sent home) to finish each night so she's been stuck at the table or at grandma's throughout a good bit of the weekly drama. What am I supposed to do? If I overrule the teacher and tell her to quit and leave it, she goes to school proclaiming in a bratty way that, "My mom said that I don't have to do this!" But, if I let her muddle through it (she didn't do it in class when she was supposed to and sure didn't ask for help), it means that I get to endure a three or four hour homework marathon complete with tears and tantrums (from me).