This is a very odd week for me. Everybody has school and work EXCEPT me, and it's just me, here with Ladybug, wondering what my life would be like if I was a stay-at-home mom. I washed dishes (woot?) sat with Ladybug on my lap a LOT, played 'string the button' with some new plastic buttons I just bought (small pleasures--but solid ones) and listened to Ladybug play with her stuffed animals in the living room while I surfed the net. I also growled a lot, because every time I actually went IN the living room and TRIED to sit down (to, say, read, knit, get off my sore foot...) I was covered with short people, and let me tell you, the Cave Troll's bony ass does NOT get less razor sharp with time.
So, the answer is (as it always has been) being home is a combination of wonder and frustration, and I'm thinking part time really is the best of both worlds--of course, writing for $$$ would be too, but I'm not holding my breath on that front!!!
Thanks for the (varied and surprising) response on the porcelain dolls... I know Chicken was about seven when she started getting her 'breakables', and I also know that the short people's tiny, overpacked room is going to need some @#$$% shelves before we put some 'do not touchies' in it. I'm seriously thinking about making a bunk bed our next big purchase--maybe that would open the room up a little. (yeah... and why don't I just guzzle a six-pack of jolt cola before I go to bed, because I can see I'll be getting a whole lot of sleep in that case, right?)
I tried (four times!!!!) to put the frickin' 'glubs' on the damned blog. The Cave Troll's dinosaur glubs were hella cute--I just cro cheted a line up the back of each glub, and attached three overlapping 'scales' in a contrasting color, then crocheted circles and bobbles for the eyes, and (my favorite part) a red tongue that went between the thumb and the fingers on the palm. *sigh* you're gonna need some fuckin' pictures--there's just no way out of it. (Grrrrrrrrrrrrrr.........)
Oh--and this is funny... (I have GOT to remember the damned camera!)
Mom & Dad stopped by last night--they wanted to give us their old (departed) dog's big fluffy sleep bed for the house. It's been a real gift, because, although we've wanted to let Chiquita sleep in the house for quite some time, she has, for the most part, acted like we just 'forgot' to put her out, and she spent a lot of time clacketing down the hall, hoping her wandering would alert us to her old-doggy presence. Nothing we put down--blankets, towels, sheets, whathaveyou, seemed to work, and she's a big frickin' dog--we weren't sure about buying an actual bed, because the nice ones are a little pricey. Apparently, it was exactly what she needed. Last night, we hauled it into the kitchen, and after the kids went to bed, she came into the kitchen--without being asked--and after an evening of sleeping NEXT to the bed or AROUND the bed, when the house went dark she flopped ON the bed. She was snoring in minutes, and she's snoring now, happy, and, thank the good doggy Goddess, warm to her old bones. I feel good about this. When I was talking to my mom, I remembered the LAST time I tried to move an older animal in from the garage for comfort in her declining years.
You all may remember that post. It was the one where I skinned the fucking cat.
This seems to be working much better--I can only be grateful:-)