4-06-2009
Expect it might be an interesting day as it started off with a bang. I just love lightning in the morning. And not a drop of rain until I opened the door to take the dog out. Too bad her leash is just short enough that I have to be out on the step with her. Rain drops the size of quarters. At least it wasn’t hail.
Maybe it’s a dog day. Encounter two escapee dogs on the walk to school. Naturally they decide to follow us. Kiddo starts panicking every time they approach the street. Child really needs to do theater. Pair of canines are two beagle-like creatures with transmitters on their collars. The faulty invisible dog fence strikes again. Have never known one to be reliable. Do not trust such “containment” with a determined dog. Prefer stout wooden or even ugly chain link variety. Self-closing gates also good.
Reach the corner, a five-point intersection by the school. Dogs still with us. Owner jumps out of a Mini Cooper, relieving me of the responsibility to keep them out of traffic. Good thing, too. Typical dogs, too shy to catch. Untypical of escaped dogs, they run to their owner who then drags them off, yelling over her shoulder, “They got out of the back yard.” No kidding. Really. Instruct Kiddo again to calm down, that her panicking only would have excited the dogs more. Maybe she’ll grow up to be a vet with such empathy for animals. Ah, Monday adventures. Think I’ve had enough adventures to last me a while.
Last night at dinner, Kiddo talks of playing ball over the fence with the little boy from “Backsdoor.” Love the creative use of language that is still native to eight year olds. Too bad the conversation goes down the tubes after that. She relates how the boy had two balls attached with some kind of string, and that she threw it back to him underhand, trying to get it over the fence.
“But,” she says, “it got caught on the wire. But it’s okay because I got it down.”
“How?” Still calm at this moment, but can feel my chest seizing up.
“Don’t worry, I didn’t climb. I used a stick. A long one.”
“Don’t you ever, ever, ever, ever, I can’t say enough evers, do that again!”
She’s clueless. Completely clueless about the danger. I reason that it must have been the Comcast line, that it was the bottom one. Not a power line. I thought eight was old enough to leave in the backyard safely. Now I wonder. My job is to get her to 18 safely. Wonder how possible that might be.
Other before school dramas this morning, luckily not involving personal safety. Kiddo has misplaced a library book, and can’t find it. Insists she can’t remember. Kiddo would be lousy at search and rescue. Her idea of searching is a cursory glance that misses things in plain view. Come to think of it, same is true of Husband. Wonder if it is genetic.
Today’s Monday excitements include a venture to what my friend has designated, “The Best Store Ever.” Faint whiffs of SpongeBob aside, the superlative seems to fit. The nearly local Super Giant is the best grocery store I’ve been to since the expiry of the Clemens chain. Oh how I miss going to visit dear Mrs. Clemens in Plumsteadville.
This time, I am flush with decent coupons. Dear Mother donated a $5 off a $15 order coupon. Have 4, $1 coupon doublers also. And the sale flyer is full of stuff we actually use this week. Better still, most of it has a long shelf life. I smell a large but bargainfull grocery bill coming. Ah, well. Will save money in the long run. Must not succumb to impulse purchases. Must. Stick. To. List.
Success! Have conquered grocery shopping, and now remember how much I loathe doing this chore in the pouring rain. Nonetheless, tally only totals $179. Brilliant, considering Husband’s terminal employment situation. Most everything in the cart was on sale, and several had coupons. Now have peanut butter, stuffing, diced tomatoes, and pineapple tidbits to last months. Tomorrow, to the warehouse club. Could be dangerous.
On the home front, ten minutes searching turns up Kiddo’s MIA library book. In her room, of course, and on a chair, underneath a box. Will not even try to comprehend the filing system.
I am mother. Hear me roar. At my child. Again. Figuratively this time. Again, we have not achieved a sticker on our behavior chart. One for six now. The irksome part is that she has proved twice already that she is capable of controlling the inner drama queen for days at a time, many days at a time. Again admonish child to control her temper and not call out in class. Grill her on her tools for controlling her anger. She knows them, yet rarely remembers to use them. Lately, every parental utterance is met with one to the contrary. Urgh.
Afternoon library excursion brings relief, not literary this time, but of the job search sort. As Kiddo checked out, I spied someone filling out an employment application. I filled one out last week. Since I’ve heard nothing, I considered it a lost cause. Perhaps they are hoping to accumulate a pool of applicants before scheduling interviews. Still not too optimistic. Horse breeding experience does not qualify one to work in a library. However, the location, pay, and hours per week make the position desirable. All that said, not sure if I really, really want it. Would prefer to remain stay at home mom if we can swing it. Very averse to putting Kiddo in after care at school. It’s a good program, but I can’t see how it would benefit a child whose behavior is already not quite up to snuff.
Consider Mondays tool of the devil. Husband brings home traffic citation for running a red light. Fast cycle he says. Was green when he entered the intersection, he says. Cop invisible on other side of SEPTA bus. Crap. Just what we need. Good thing I did so well at the supermarket. Silver lining is, no points. Thank God. Car insurance would not have survived that one. Already dinged for two accidents in less than twelve months. Perhaps Husband should not be allowed to drive. Too bad SEPTA can’t get him to work. Well, it could, but the last leg of the journey walking could be life-threatening. Okay, Monday can be over now.
