Last night my son did something I never expected: He grabbed a notebook and started writing out math equations, showing me how he solves them. Then he showed me an easier way he had discovered to solve other math equations on his own. Natasha was right – he is a pattern seeker. He told me he enjoys going to math now – that it’s fun challenges. I emailed the teacher this morning, thanking her for this child she has been able to teach in a subject he hated. She wrote back immediately, saying what an incredible kid he is, that he takes good notes and even refused her offer of less problems because he wants the challenge. Holy shit.
Well, hell. I met my people for a meeting about buying a house. It can happen, yes…but it would be better and smarter to wait until I’ve finished my hours and become licensed. Dammitdammitdammitdammit. Why do I choose such low paying careers? I hate it. The first thought I had, however, was that I got to spend more time with Wicked Tree, so I guess that’s cool. As I sat at Café Santoro, I noticed many yellow and sunflower balloons floating in the air. I knew immediately it was for Sabrina and that Miss Lisa’s Montessori school had released them for her. Sabrina worked here, if I’m not mistaken. What a beautiful way for the precious littles to celebrate her life.
I facilitated my next group at work and though the material is dry, I think it went fairly well. Then, paperwork and billable phone calls. I understand the nonprofits need to bill more because to be honest, we are getting the bottom half of the short end of the stick (my new saying). I hesitate because billing for these things takes away time from the client, but … let’s try it for a bit and see how it goes. I also began moving my desk after all. The person who was supposed to take the desk won’t be doing so and the other person already has a desk. So I’ll take the desk. This way I can feel J-Ber’s vibes.
I headed to the car and…Jake had texted me. I had forgotten about today’s workout. He was not happy, but he got paid for it anyway, so the short words he used were really not necessary. To make up for it I immediately went to In-Shape sports club and signed up there (this is passive-aggressiveness. I often use it when a “fuck you” isn’t appropriate). They have a pool, hot tub, steam bath, etc, plus kick as circuits that work the whole body, which is more of what my back needs. Plus I can hang out with my kids in the hot tub. There ya have it, Jake.
Picked up the kiddos from school, a
nd we came home to clean. After the house was Mostly-Cleaned (I even almost started a cleaning-pattern) Mags retreated to her room and Ethan went to ride bikes while they waited for Larry to pick them up. I was looking up party-food recipes when I heard the door to the garage door slam and heard a breath. Fuck. He’s hurt. Sure enough, Ethan had road rash on his side and elbow. His thumb was hurt, too. I had never seen a road rash this bad. The poor kid was in such pain I gave him one of my Norcos (please don’t tell the authorities) and contacted L. I cleaned it with hydrogen peroxide while we waited – about 30 minutes later L showed up with Tegaderm and gauze, plus ointment (though I’d already put Paw-Paw ointment on). Poor kid. So much pain – and his bike is screwed up. Seems it shifted gears, the chain slipped and he did a front flip over the bike after having pedaled as fast as he could. Kid wasn’t wearing his helmet, either, and I got after him for that because this is how you end up with head injuries. Dad and I treated the wounds and eventually the Norco kicked in and he wasn’t hurting as badly. I’d hate to be him tomorrow, but it could have been so much worse. Little blessings.
Pictures: Equationing: Road rashing.
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