Progress Report

Well, it's September. The kids start school in 6 days. The fabric I bought to make their school bags is still sitting in the Hancock Fabrics bag. The labels I need to order to personalize all their belongings in an effort to keep lunch boxes and cups and snack containers and clothes and bags (if they have one) from becoming displaced from their rightful owner are still hanging out in the virtual shopping cart. I want to do my part in saving the earth and plan to steer clear of juice boxes in Heath's lunch bag, and have planned to get a new travel cup. Have I? No, I have not.

What am I waiting for? Monday, I suppose. It seems that something more pressing continues to pop up, like piles of laundry to fold, 10Ks to run, neck lumps to obsess over and spend time at the doctor's office and on the phone with very patient nurses, and grocery shopping, and keeping Heath and Stella off each other, and cooking dinner, and...

My plan of meeting a friend this morning for some greenway running/Trader Joe's shopping sweetened when I spoke to my mom last night. Apparently Papa and HeHe have been experiencing some severe Heath and Stella withdrawal--having not seen them in a week--and would I be interested in bringing them over to their house to eat breakfast and play? I HAD to say yes, which meant I got to run my 5 and a bit miles without pushing the jogger. Good thing, too. My trail half marathon is a mere three weeks away. I better get to some long-runnin'.

Six days. Stella starts preshool in six days. And it's not a moment too soon. From the looks of things, she's got her work cut out for her in terms of learning some of the tougher lessons of being in a 2's class.


We do not eat paint.

We do not paint on our person.

We do not put the paintbrush in our mouth. And if you're on a chair, we need to sit on our bottoms. (Apparently painting on one's body continues long after one has turned two. See exhibit orange fingers.)

We do not paint on someone else's body. Paintbrush out of your mouth, Stella.

Well, yes, you're NOT painting Stella, but you still shouldn't paint your face.

I have a feeling the words, Stella, let's keep the paint on our paper, will be uttered with great frequency. And frankly, if Heath is exploring activities in addition to trucks and trains and race cars and crashing, even if it includes orange hands and fingers, I'll take it.