A few thoughts
I love my new apartment. It is in a lovely neighbourhood, one which I would explore further on foot if not for this hellish heatwave. I bought some grape koolaid from some kids down the block earlier. It did not seem a waste of a quarter for iced purple sugar water. I gave them fifty cents; hell, everyone's gotta make a living.
While babysitting for Bahai school this past weekend I learned a few things. My days went as follows: Thursday night I was in charge of two little boys, aged 6 and 7, the number soon grew to 3 or 4 boys because someone broke out the uberpopular legos. But these were not just regular legos...oh nonono my friend, there were, wait for it, BIONICALS! in with the legos. "What's a bionical?" I asked. "They're like, you know, you can make robots out of them." Said Kalim. "Ok..so "bio" for "life" as in "human"..." I thought aloud. Knowing the definition did not help me distinguish between bionicals and normals legos, however. "is this a bionical?" "no". "How about this one?" "no." "surely this is a bionical's foot?!" "No, that's a leg." I was also reminded of how much little boys like to play war. Whilst preparing for an all out supergalactic mega bionical battle, I feebly suggested "How about a nice match of tennis, instead?" "we. want. to. FIGHT!" came the reply. at least I tried. Then I opened my Isabel Allende book and half listened to comments such as "You will never destroy my bionical because he has a super mega plasma rifle shield and the only way to disable it is by a computer hidden deep underground!"
yeah. fortunately the only real injury was a bump on the head Diel sustained when he ran into a corner playing Monster Tag. He's 7. and tough. and didn't even notice it until I did, among chastising comments such as "what will your mother think of me?!?"
Friday through Sunday I was in charge of the nursery, where I had two babies, Zain and Claire, aged 9 months and 6 months respectively. They were so good tempered, and despite what I may tell people, I really do have a maternal instinct. Especially when a warm cuddly thing falls asleep in your arms while you sing renditions of "Twinkle twinkle little star" "bah bah black sheep" and "the ABC song", which have always been the same melody anyway. and the tops of their little heads smell so good! and when you can make them smile it's precious! couldn't have done it without the one volunteer I got each classtime, though. You need two sets of loving arms to watch kids this young.
On a completely different track:
I have a friend who's Chilean Mom hid the young communist Pablo Neruda for awhile, before he fled to Europe. I was and am still in awe to have discovered that.
I have a cold working on me. ick. I am reading Neil Gaiman's *American Gods* right now, and I think I enjoyed *Anansi Boys* more. there's just too much to it, for my small brain, anyway.
goodnight,
Molly
While babysitting for Bahai school this past weekend I learned a few things. My days went as follows: Thursday night I was in charge of two little boys, aged 6 and 7, the number soon grew to 3 or 4 boys because someone broke out the uberpopular legos. But these were not just regular legos...oh nonono my friend, there were, wait for it, BIONICALS! in with the legos. "What's a bionical?" I asked. "They're like, you know, you can make robots out of them." Said Kalim. "Ok..so "bio" for "life" as in "human"..." I thought aloud. Knowing the definition did not help me distinguish between bionicals and normals legos, however. "is this a bionical?" "no". "How about this one?" "no." "surely this is a bionical's foot?!" "No, that's a leg." I was also reminded of how much little boys like to play war. Whilst preparing for an all out supergalactic mega bionical battle, I feebly suggested "How about a nice match of tennis, instead?" "we. want. to. FIGHT!" came the reply. at least I tried. Then I opened my Isabel Allende book and half listened to comments such as "You will never destroy my bionical because he has a super mega plasma rifle shield and the only way to disable it is by a computer hidden deep underground!"
yeah. fortunately the only real injury was a bump on the head Diel sustained when he ran into a corner playing Monster Tag. He's 7. and tough. and didn't even notice it until I did, among chastising comments such as "what will your mother think of me?!?"
Friday through Sunday I was in charge of the nursery, where I had two babies, Zain and Claire, aged 9 months and 6 months respectively. They were so good tempered, and despite what I may tell people, I really do have a maternal instinct. Especially when a warm cuddly thing falls asleep in your arms while you sing renditions of "Twinkle twinkle little star" "bah bah black sheep" and "the ABC song", which have always been the same melody anyway. and the tops of their little heads smell so good! and when you can make them smile it's precious! couldn't have done it without the one volunteer I got each classtime, though. You need two sets of loving arms to watch kids this young.
On a completely different track:
I have a friend who's Chilean Mom hid the young communist Pablo Neruda for awhile, before he fled to Europe. I was and am still in awe to have discovered that.
I have a cold working on me. ick. I am reading Neil Gaiman's *American Gods* right now, and I think I enjoyed *Anansi Boys* more. there's just too much to it, for my small brain, anyway.
goodnight,
Molly