Tuesday, February 10, 2009

February is the Armpit of the Year

My apologies to those who like our shortest month. A Garfield cartoon, year ago, had the line I used for my title and every February, I am reminded of it. Maybe it's seasonal affective disorder, maybe it's just that the holidays are over and spring feels so far off, maybe it's state testing, but I have always had a hard time surviving February without getting depressed and overwhelmed. In Texas, the state writing test, which was my area of responsibility, since I was the writing teacher there too, landed on the third Tuesday of the month. I have some dear and lovely friends down in Texas who are still dealing with that stress every year. I should send them chocolate. But I'm not teaching and I still feel overly stressed and grumpy this February, so I am officially blaming the weather and making an effort to get some sunlight every day.

Our house is off the market but not in the good way. The good way would mean we were under contract, had a closing date set, a buyer who was approved for a loan and lots of boxes packed. Instead, we have taken it off the market and have been painting the entire interior (I do mean everything. One room in the house will not be repainted when we finish.). If it wouldn't lead to a divorce, I'd push to repaint the exterior too, but my dear husband is doing the painting, with Chalea's help, while I keep the little ones occupied and out of the paint. Lilli has managed to paint her legs, her shirt and her hair. Isn't she a genius? And only two . . . That little girl will keep me busy and on my toes for years to come. Currently, the only way to get her to slow down is to sit and sing nursery rhymes with her. It's adorable to watch her sing "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" to baby Sal (Tinkle tinkle ittle star, ow I under wut oo are) And she likes the "Itsy Bitsy Spider" song too.

Salvador is three months old now and fussy. He has teeth coming in on both the top and the bottom, but is too little to hold anything in his mouth very long so he can chew on it. Sometimes my knuckle works well for him, but usually, I have to rub some children's Anbesol on his gums. Poor little guy. When he's not hurting, he smiles and laughs, but oh, those awful teeth!

Chalea has every teen's dream: her own cell phone and her braces should be off before her next birthday. If we can afford contacts too, she'll be feeling fantastic. We're plowing on with homeschool. Our semester will be finished soon, a little behind the school schedules, but we're going at our own pace and it works for us.

Ah, the baby is awake, so I must go.

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