school pool tonight....

And Jonathan can't go with us. I already regret telling him that if he didn't get moving and get ready for school he couldn't go. He didn't get moving though, so I have to follow through. He said he would be fine with missing the pool, he just doesn't want to go to school. He does have a cold still. And it is strange to send a child with a cold to school, but how many days can one skip for a cold? I don't know.

I am now coming down with this cold. blah, my head hurts! Each and every time I get sick I marvel at how unaware of how good I feel when I am not sick, how I just take it for granted....and I also feel a surge of mercy on my kids who have already had this cold for a bit, the ones who have come to me and complained how their head hurt, or their throat hurt....(seriously, sometimes I feel like the twenty-four hour complaint department. After like a hundred paper cuts and other assorted aches and pains, I tend to get sort of dull to their pain...not intentionally, of course....)

Camille just woke up, and told me she wants, "yummy food". I said, "Not yucky food?" "No, just yummy food!" hmm. Don't I always give her yummy food?

So let's see, what in the heck happened to my new excercise plan? The one where I was at least going to go on a walk every day? Oh, I have excuses, lots of them. Now I have this cold....but I am going to the pool tonight. Come hell or high water, whatever that means.

I started reading a good book last night. I stayed up a teeny bit too late with it. But I remembered my self control and put it away after only half of it. It was hard, but on school nights I simply cannot read whole books in one sitting and expect to get up in the morning and be sunshine-y and pleasant. (blah, I am finally growing up!) Anyway, I was reading along, and came upon the word, "arse". Yes, I apologize for writing this to those who don't care for bad words, but....anyway, I saw this word and it hit me like a ton of bricks, suddenly and unexpectedlly, how much I miss my mother. She was the only one I ever remember using that word. Now, my mother was a lady, not coarse or rude, but she did occasionally tell me to "get my little arse moving"....I cried and cried when I read that word last night. Just heartbrokenly, as if my mother had just died, not like it was four years ago. Missing someone like that is so permanent....it just goes on and on and I just want to reach out and hug her and see her and be with her, and I cannot. The only thing left is memories.

As long as I am writing bad words in this post, I will tell of Jonathan, who is certain to hate me in a few years when he reads this....he is confused about something. Here's an example.

Camille: Boys don't have boobies, Jon.

Jon: Yes they do, they are called, "nuts".