Tuesday, I feel as though you are the new Monday.

We are still in our pajamas.  The bells have already rang lunch and I can't believe this morning is gone.  The sun is high today but the wind is bitter.  All of my plants are reveling in some Vitamin D in the kitchen; I think I should join them, maybe curl up in a sunbeam on the kitchen floor and just forget the world.  It has finally warmed up to zero degrees and I am waiting once again for laundry pipes to thaw so I can do a load or 2 of laundry.  My camera will not connect to my computer and it is full of fun pictures from celebrating Abby last night (she turns 14 today and Uriah works late tonight, thus the celebration yesterday).  My frustration level is high - especially since I just dumped my camera on Sunday and it worked fine and today it decided to crap its pants.  It probably doesn't help that our computer is old and probably plotting to give up its ghost (which means I have to back everything up to the external hard drive today or risk an even bigger melt-down if it does die).  I guess I will have to write about having a 14 year old tomorrow, but in case you need a dose of the Birthday Girl today, you can find some stellar Abby posts here, here, and here.

Fourteen.  Does this somehow feel bigger than 13?  Yes, I believe it does.  Inching and ticking closer to complete independence.  College visits just around the corner.  Boy-girl parties on her radar.  I think we are all of us in this house aging quicker than I find comfortable.

Finn is whining because he has to clean up the mess that he made in the living room (game chips all over, Christmas books strewn from one end to the other, and every single cushion and pillow pulled off of the couch). Cabin fever has set in.  10 minutes outside might not be so bad, if it were just a few degrees warmer. His ploy to get me to help him when I use my firm voice: "You're scaring me.  Nobody wants to be my friend today."  I can assure you, the sad eyes and the pouty mouth do not work on me.  And if I have to repeat "You put the red chips in the red bag, the blue chips in the blue bag, the yellow chips in the yellow bag, and the green chips in the green bag," one more time, I may have to go out into the frigid back yard myself just to adequately cool off.

Maybe aging and preschool and college aren't such bad things after all...

We are still in our pajamas.  The bells have already rang lunch and I can't believe this morning is gone.  The sun is high today but the wind is bitter.  All of my plants are reveling in some Vitamin D in the kitchen; I think I should join them, maybe curl up in a sunbeam on the kitchen floor and just forget the world.  It has finally warmed up to zero degrees and I am waiting once again for laundry pipes to thaw so I can do a load or 2 of laundry.  My camera will not connect to my computer and it is full of fun pictures from celebrating Abby last night (she turns 14 today and Uriah works late tonight, thus the celebration yesterday).  My frustration level is high - especially since I just dumped my camera on Sunday and it worked fine and today it decided to crap its pants.  It probably doesn't help that our computer is old and probably plotting to give up its ghost (which means I have to back everything up to the external hard drive today or risk an even bigger melt-down if it does die).  I guess I will have to write about having a 14 year old tomorrow, but in case you need a dose of the Birthday Girl today, you can find some stellar Abby posts here, here, and here.

Fourteen.  Does this somehow feel bigger than 13?  Yes, I believe it does.  Inching and ticking closer to complete independence.  College visits just around the corner.  Boy-girl parties on her radar.  I think we are all of us in this house aging quicker than I find comfortable.

Finn is whining because he has to clean up the mess that he made in the living room (game chips all over, Christmas books strewn from one end to the other, and every single cushion and pillow pulled off of the couch). Cabin fever has set in.  10 minutes outside might not be so bad, if it were just a few degrees warmer. His ploy to get me to help him when I use my firm voice: "You're scaring me.  Nobody wants to be my friend today."  I can assure you, the sad eyes and the pouty mouth do not work on me.  And if I have to repeat "You put the red chips in the red bag, the blue chips in the blue bag, the yellow chips in the yellow bag, and the green chips in the green bag," one more time, I may have to go out into the frigid back yard myself just to adequately cool off.

Maybe aging and preschool and college aren't such bad things after all...