If you are a parent, you should never get too proud

FM#3 is 4 years old and knows that the word epistle means letter, as in Paul’s Epistle to the Romans.  At least he sort of knows it.  Maybe.  On the other hand, maybe not.  If we ask him what epistle means, he says, “Letter.”  During a casual discussion, my Beloved mentioned this to one of our pastors who has kids about the same age.  Our pastor was blown away.  My Beloved had a proud papa moment.  This is why we won’t tell the following story to the same pastor.

One night last week, I was gone during family time.  My Beloved read the word dwelling and asked FM#2 what it meant.  He had no idea.  Then he asked the DP.  Blank stare.  Then my Beloved asked FM#3.  He did it sort of as a joke.  FM#3, with great confidence, said “Letter.” Hey, it had worked for him before, right?

(BTW, FM#1 did know the answer.)

News Flash

It has been raining most of the day.  And the backyard is very wet.  BUT  THE LAKE IS GONE.

We still have our pockets of mud, some areas more so since they tore portions up to put the french drain in but I have hope that I might find my sanity again.

Otoh, I think we may have just lost any love our neighbors to the south have for us because the drain now comes out at the curb right next to their driveway and I think they will now have a permanent puddle in front of their driveway.  Unless we experience a drought.  Well, I guess there are no perfect solutions.  I guess I should be happy the puddle isn’t in front of OUR driveway.  But I feel bad about it.  A little bit.

And this is all a news flash because my Beloved and I had very low expectations.  Especially as we saw them unload their equipment.  They just didn’t look all that professional.  But they did better than we could have in our wildest expectations!!!!

Duh!!!

Our backyard does not have great drainage.  In fact, sometimes it’s a lake.  It seems to be worse this year and it is just about to drive me crazy.  Actually, it’s the kids, who need to burn off some energy, who are about to drive me crazy but I think that goes without saying.  So, since we rent our house, and our landlord, who has promised to fix it, has done nothing, I give my notice that we are moving out in sixty days because the situation is really untenable.  I really don’t want to move out — at least not yet.  But I want a backyard.  For the kids to play in.  To give me some PEACE and QUIET.  Okay, there.  Now I feel better.  Umm, where was I?  Oh yeah, drainage.  So the landlord promises to have someone out by the end of the week and they showed up today.  Nothing like cutting it close.  😉  They take their piping to the back yard and begin to work but the water is so deep in areas that they all take off their work boots which are about to get ruined and stand in the water in their bare feet to work in 54 degree weather with a 20mph wind.  Not my idea of fun.  And they do some preliminary work and then the crew chief comes to tell me they are finished for the day and will be back tomorrow because they need to let the backyard drain some.  Then he actually says to me, with a straight face, “You got a lot of water back there.”  “Yes, I know.”  (Okay, I wish I could make one of those bulgy eye faces but I don’t know how to do that in wordpress but if I did, I would put one here.)  He then points to the street where the water is gushing from the ditch they have made from our back yard.  “You really got a lot of water back there.”  Duh!!!

But I’m doing the happy dance because the kids can play outside soon.  😀

A fish story

A few weeks ago, FM#2’s Occupational Therapist gave him a betta fish with all the fixings — read plastic fishbowl because she knows my life and knows a glass one wouldn’t last.  All the kids enjoyed Betta Bob.  He was red and quite beautiful as he swam around his bowl.  But earlier this week, he seemed, well, not quite as enthusiastic as he had before.  I was worried.  Apparently, my fears were not unfounded.  This morning he was dead.  Had I looked closely, I would have discovered it before the kids got up but I didn’t.  There was much wailing and gnashing of teeth by FM#2 upon our discovery.  FM#3, aka The Town Crier, ran screaming to the other kids “Betta Bob is dead.  Betta Bob is dead.” Whereupon, FM#2 wailed louder with each pronouncement.

So cancel the morning grocery store run I had scheduled and go to the pet store instead.  In the meantime, FM#1 asked how much a fish cost and could he buy one.  Upon arrival in the fish section, I inquire about goldfish.  I had goldfish growing up.  They lasted for years.  Not weeks.  Plus, since there were lots in the tank, if one bit the dust, it wasn’t so, um, traumatic.  But apparently goldfish require filtration.  We don’t have an electrical outlet near the bowl, a placement so chosen because it’s mainly out of FM#3’s reach.  So, back to the betta fish.  I know you can’t put two males together but this store has females also, so we got a male and a female.  The kids are quite excited.  They expect babies.  The wedding is tonight.  🙂  On the way home, FM#2 said, “I can’t wait until we put the lovies together in the bowl.”  Apparently, Betta Betty wasn’t so excited.  Male Betta #2 (as yet unnamed) follows her around the bowl and she swims away. 

I told the salesman, who assured me that they wouldn’t have enough room to make babies, that I was bringing the younguns back to him.