I once made the statement that you can’t swing a dead cat without hitting a gifted kid. After saying it, I sort of regretted saying it, as I tend to regret many of the things I say out loud. (“Quarter Pounder with cheese, mustard, pickle, and onion” is an excellent example of this. Also, the fact that I’m constantly chewing on my foot (figuratively!) is one of the many reasons why you’ll probably never see me in person! I like to stay in my (mostly soundproof) house! I sing songs to my cats! Anyway!)
I wasn’t going to share this with you, but I suddenly feel like I should: Meredith was recently accepted into the gifted program at school. After consulting with us, her teacher recommended her, she tested surprisingly well, and Wham! Every Thursday morning she now reports to the middle school where she has her own locker and she changes classes along with an entire hallway of first and second graders who are also in the program. And I’m being intentionally vague, because it’s such a thin fence between bragging on your kid and not bragging and I suppose it’s not wrong to brag about your kid, and gheez. It’s just sort of new to me, but I will say this: Meredith LOVES her Thursdays, and I like to think of it as her song to sing—not mine.
This might seem like I’m changing the subject, but I’m not: Meredith gets car sick, and because of that, she can’t/won’t ride the bus. This morning I had to take her to the middle school at 9:00, pick her up at 11:00 (it was an early dismissal day), drive her to the elementary school, return home and feed Harper lunch, take Harper to the elementary at 12:30, go back to the middle school for the parent/teacher conference at 1:20, and then back home where I currently sit typingtypingtyping until 3:06 when I make my way back to the elementary to pick them both up. AND, because Jeff is in California and I slept like a horse last night (mostly on my feet, lots of fidgeting and swinging my tail at imaginary bugs), I’m feeling a bit raw.
And now I’m going to change into an even more opaque hat: Something was brought up at today’s conference that should have been brought up at last week’s conference with her elementary classroom teacher, and I’m currently stuck between a rock and a hard place (Ah! Clichés! Rattlesnakes!) because I feel the need to confront someone, but I secretly know I can’t because there’s a 17% chance that it might affect a friendship, and because I am who I am, this is going to bother me for days, and hey! I’m really liking that sick mom from American Idol, aren’t you?
After actually feeling tempted to taste goat meat last weekend, I am now 100% committed to learn how to cook authentic Indian food of the vegetarian variety. (Live long and prosper, Goats!) It seems that whenever Jeff and I get the chance to hit a restaurant, we always go for Indian. I’ve asked for cookbook recommendations on Twitter, and I’ve now added a few to my Amazon wish list. (Whee! A list of wishes!) I’m now wondering if you have any words of wisdom. What I really want is to figure out exactly how the place down the street makes their Delhi’s Chaat. From there? Saag paneer. And on and on until my house smells like an Indian Palace. (Don’t worry. I’m not going to go all Julie and Julia: The Indian Version on you. I’m not nearly that perky.)
Look. I knitted a hat and some washcloths for Meredith’s kindergarten teacher. There I go again, getting all twirly and knitting gifts for teachers!
Tomorrow is the final day!