I think it has something to do with the fact that I told her fifteen minutes ago to keep her crayons on the two pieces of paper I'd given her and that she was absolutely not allowed to write in her sister's favorite book.
I also told her that scaling the fireplace to retrieve an icon of Jesus and the Virgin Mary was not on her list of things that were going to be allowed today. I know. I'm a mean mom. Apparently taking her to the park and letting her have rice and beans for lunch today (her all time favorite food) counts for nothing. These horrible no book coloring rules are just too much. And don't even get her started on my fascist wall coloring rules...
He also pinched the doctor when the doctor tried to examine him after trying to swat his hand away about ten times.
In the last three months he's definitely developed some opinions about doctors (and really strangers in general... although he was all smiles with the female dentist and hygienist when we found out that his tooth is just fine earlier in the week... they think that his gums had just swollen up over the tooth when he fell and that it was fine all along!).
Here's the thing. When Patrick is "asked" for a toy he's playing with, he clutches it with both hands and lets out an ear splitting scream. He has two sisters. One is three. He knows what being "asked" for a toy means in the play room. And that squeal causes his sisters to back off right away. No one wants to get in trouble for stealing a toy from the baby and making him cry.
I thought it was kind of odd that there were sharing type skills on the nine month old "test." I thought the squeal alarm he has makes much, much more sense in terms of nine month old play room skills.
We went to the Museum of Modern Art at Paul's school today. I had another field trip planned but the place we were heading to was having an event, with a $20 a person entry fee and so our plans changed.
I should know better. I should know that MOMA's everywhere make me feel like I've died a little bit inside after visiting them. Paul said he was pleasantly surprised because he hand no expectations. I agreed that I had absolutely no expectations but the fact that 10 piles of dirt is considered "art" makes me lose a bit of faith in man kind and particularly a civilization in which people stand around looking at the aforementioned piles of dirt and musing on the deepness of the exhibit.
There was an exhibit that was a bunch of rubber bouncy balls on strings attached to motors that made them bounce up and down from the ceiling that made Mae's little face light up. So it wasn't a total loss. But yeah. In a few years when I think going to some MOMA somewhere is a good idea remind me that it's not ever. Natural history museum, yes. Fine arts museum, absolutely. Exhibit on piles of dirt... run.
new snoods. I layered lace over dupioni silk, made a snood out of a rabbit hair and wool sweater that's simply luxurious and have have been playing a lot with different silk and lace trim combinations. And of course, I just had to share some of what I've finished these past few weeks since I've reorganized my sewing area!
|From a lovely scarf that I just had to turn into a snood!|
|Blue dupioni silk with a satin and velvet ribbon trim!|
|Dupioni silk with lace!|
|More dupioni silk with lace!|
|Lace over dupioni silk!|
|More lace and silk!|
|Rabbit/Wool/Spandex that will be perfect for winter!|
Now we walk around Paul's school and I'm like "botany," sigh... "I should have done Botany... Oh look Paul Bacteriology! Isn't that amazing? Look they're doing a bee study in that building...and... and... and..." And he looks at me like I'm nuts as I ramble on about how maybe in twenty years I'll go back and get my degree in math... or botany...
I know, I know, some people are probably wondering what degree would be particularly useful at this time in my life (if I was going to school right now it would definitely be for a degree in education). But... it would be nice to have a degree in a subject that I actually still like. And not one that just makes me feel especially pessimistic.
Anyways here are a few of the awesome buildings that inspired that rambling paragraph and what the signs on each building say (since the signs are actually in the brick I'm not sure if they're all actually still these particular buildings...):
For more Quick Takes, visit Conversion Diary!