Groundhog's Day Forever!

I was being cavalier about bedtime because it was a snow day and tomorrow is another. At 8:30 Avee came and asked if it could be bedtime yet. I do not know this child. Well, I know her, because she's always been my little sleeper, but I do not know where she came from. Certainly not me. I was always afraid of whatever party I might miss out on if I had to sleep. Bo's the same way. When I told Avee it could be bedtime right now and she passed the word on to him, he said, "I'll go when it's Mom's idea, not yours." See, I get that.

We got a lot of snow. It's so beautiful. Of course, I didn't have to spend nearly an hour and a half digging the driveway and road out to drive somewhere, so I still think it's beautiful.

I got some kind of stomach bug. I never get the stomach bug. Ever. It's been relatively mild, but it sure came at a perfect time for me to milk it. My classes were canceled because of the weather yesterday and J couldn't really even get out to go to work today, so I took the opportunity to lay in bed and complain.

This evening while I was laying in bed, Daniel came up to me very closely and said, "What's on your mind, Monkeybutt?" I am constantly asking my kids "where did you hear/learn/see that" when they say or do things because I just don't get how they come up with some of it. Like tonight when Bo finished something he was proud of and vainly shouted, "Wouldja look at that!? You just can't teach that!!" Of course, my kids claim sole proprietorship over all these clever, funny, amusing things they say and do. They may be liars, but they're funny!

I started compiling my blog posts into a book. I've only gotten six months into 5 years of blogging and I'm totally overwhelmed. The main reason I'm even doing this is because every other conversation I have with my mom, she asks me if I have a hard copy of my posts. When I say no, she goes into cardiac arrest. Then she takes a puff of her inhaler and comes through. But really, I should just stop cutting it so close with her. I'm trying, but it's a hard job when you are as wordy as me, cheap, and have ADD. Bad combination for making a blog book.

My dad celebrated his 77th birthday a couple of weeks ago. I bought him this hilarious card a couple of years ago and always forgot to send it, so this year I was determined to remember. It has three older men walking along the beach and one says, "It sure is windy" and another says, "No, it's Thursday" and the third says, "Me too, let's go get a drink!" and then says something about spending his day with people who understand him. Every person in my family has had a conversation like that with my dad, only, with him saying all the parts incorrectly. I used to particularly enjoy, as a young teenager, being scoffed at by my mostly deaf father, "What do you mean the refrigerator is having an affair on Joe? That doesn't even make any sense!!!" Um, yes, yes, you got that part right, it doesn't make any sense, Dad.

Anyway, Bo included a card, after a couple of weeks of watching a Jackie Chan cartoon regularly. It said on the outside, "Have a terrible birthday" and on the inside it said, "It's oposite day, Hate: Bo" Then there was some sort of swirly circle (most certainly some symbol of Chinese magic) on the other side with the promise that "you and only you can put your finger in the center to unlock the power..." or something to that effect. The power to have a great birthday, I believe.

As I folded it inside of my card and dropped it into the mailbox, I hesitated slightly. I thought of calling my dad to sort of brace him. I just don't know how well received Bo's little seven year old "humor" and "creativity" would be. I could see my dad getting a big kick out of it, and I could see my dad being truly concerned for Bo's troubled little soul.

I never heard anything, so I figured it wasn't a big deal. Yesterday Grandma called for Bo. "Bo, I can't get Grandpa to stop laughing." Bo says, "What do you want me to do about that?" He was asking sincerely. She said when Grandpa first saw the card he was a little shocked and disconcerted, and since opening it, he hasn't stopped laughing. Bo suggested she tell him a joke so he laughs so hard he can't laugh anymore, or tell him a sad story, to get him to stop laughing. Grandma said no, she wasn't that interested.

I love how my mom talks to my kids. It's like how she used to talk to me as a child, but without the threats.