Catching up

Olympics -- we love 'em. The girls clamor for ice dancing (usually on too late) while Ben sucks in air through his teeth as he watches YouTube clips of horrifying ski-jumping crashes.

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Sarah has a new talent that is driving rusted railroad spikes through my skull: she has learned to make a noise exactly like when you blow on a comb wrapped with tissue paper. OK so maybe (no, definitely) I'm oversensitive to noises, but this one takes the cake -- every time she starts, I yell within milliseconds. I thought it couldn't get worse... until she brought home a long skinny balloon and started trying to make a balloon animal out of it. This involves a lot of twisting and sque-e-e-eaking and OH MY GOD IT'S GOING TO POP AND MAKE MY EYEBALLS EXPLODE JUST BEFORE I HIT THE CEILING. A dark quiet room is what I need at all times...

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Becky is going to be eight in two days. She is getting too big and too independent to curl up on my lap. This saddens me. She and her friends are partying at Fire Your Desire where they glaze premade pots. This means that whatever clothes she is wearing will be utterly destroyed. She is the messiest non-handicapped painter and eater on her age class on Earth, I believe. She is also incredibly smart and funny. I just wish I could remember all the examples I keep meaning to put in this damn blog.

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Sarah had her annual school concert recently. This is good news because she has FINALLY stopped singing Wakko's States and Capitals. The highlights: Pachelbel's Canon (and now for the first time, in harmony! Yay fourth grade!). Lowlight: endless choruses of "Celebration" by Kool and the Gang. With accompaniment, as always, from the cheesy MIDI file on the music teacher's laptop. Ouch.

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Thirty-two days until we go to Florida. Mmmmmm....

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