What a treat!

Over seven months with no sticky foods or candy, no gum and no popcorn?  As a kid, nothing is worse.

Since her last orthodontist appointment, Juliana has been counting down the days until today.  The day that they were taking her retainer out.

Coming out of the office she wore a huge smile and clutched a pack of gum that the hygenist had given her.  They asked if she'd like to keep her retainer and she said yes.  Huh.  A badge of honour, I suppose.

Before dropping her back at school, we stopped at the grocery store to pick a few things up.  First stop:  the bulk section.  I told her that she could pick anything she wanted.  Jube jubes it was.  Then I offered her another bag for something else.  Her eyes widening, she chose easter bunny gummies.  When I handed her the third and fourth bags (gummy worms and sour keys) she was shocked.  I never buy the kids candy. Never. I think she thought that she'd better move quietly and quickly before her mother came to her senses.

On our way to pick up milk, we stopped for the popcorn.

And then at the cash, I offered her skittles.

What the....? was the look on her face.

As we were driving back to the school, she thanked me over and over for buying all the stuff she'd been missing.  No problem, I replied.

And then, after a minute of silence, she whispered:  "just don't tell my mother."

Spring in our steps.

Nope.  That rogue snowfall isn't going to rain on my parade.  It doesn't feel like it yet, but the calendar says it's spring so that's what we're going with at my house.  See?  

Driveway hockey (while wearing gold Uggies, naturally),

brand new scooter wheels,

and my indoor garden.

 Yup.  Spring.

War and Peace.

Screaming.  Yelling.  More screaming.  Maniacal laughter.  Slamming doors.

Apparently, Juliana woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning and was behaving a little crazed.  Sheldon, never one to pass up an opportunity, decided to get all in-her-face.

Peter and I lay in bed listening to it all.  Neither of us dared wade into such volatile territory.

Five or ten minutes later, as quickly as it started, it was done.

Quiet.

We waited to see what would happen next and heard Sheldon yell:   "We're finished fighting.  We're going to play marbles now."

And so it was.

Attitude.

This teenage attitude thing has been driving me crazy and we're not even at age 14 yet.  But I might have discovered the secret.

I've already shared my idea with Sheldon and, who are we kidding, he's not on board.  But he's a smart kid so he's already realizing that his 'tude will make all the difference.

These days when he talks back, speaks rudely, or is generally disrespectful, I pull out the 'magic eraser' and send him to work.  I give him a door frame (or two) or a section of baseboard that he needs to scrub clean.  At first he was getting a warning that the eraser was coming out but now it just appears.  Usually he marches upstairs refusing but then he will return a couple of minutes later to pay his penance.

Let me tell you - this has me looking at trim in a whole new way!  In fact, I was using the stairwell at work on Friday and noticed the dirty fingerprints beside the heavy door.  Instinctively I thought "note to self:  send Sheldon to clean this up" and then I realized where I was......

I'm going to have the cleanest, most sparkly white baseboards and door frames of anyone in the neighbourhood.  And I don't even need to lift a finger.

Genius, if I don't mind saying so myself.

Just calling to say.....

It's the first day of the kid's March Break.  Peter was home all day but I had to work.  Last night I left a note for Juliana with my work phone number in case she needed to call me.

So she called me at work to say good morning.

She called me again to tell me the joke that Daddy played when he said "oh no, we've forgotten to go to school and it's sooo late!"

She called me to tell me that she brushed her hair.

She called once more to tell me that she got her hair washed, cut and straightened.  Then she got a lollipop.

Just to shake things up, she sent me an email with a picture of her clean, trimmed, straight hair.

Not much later she called me to see what time I was going to have lunch.  She told me she'd call me again in half an hour.

But the phone never rang.  Not in half an hour.  Not at lunchtime.

Mid-afternoon Peter called to say 'hi' and to report that Juliana had gone to a movie with friends (which explained why my phone stopped ringing.)

Rest assured, I heard from her once again when I was on the train home and she called to tell me where she would be waiting for me at the arena while Sheldon was practicing.

Today's lesson?  Postpone Juliana's acquisition of a cell phone for as long as possible.  The money that I save will let me retire early.  I'm sure of it.

At least I'll remember how much he loved soup.

Yesterday morning I made soup for Sheldon's lunch.  I remember heating it up and putting it in the thermos but, in the chaos of our morning, I have no recollection of what happened to the thermos after I filled it up. All I know is that it was gone when I cleaned up the kitchen after the morning stampede was over.

Cue to 10:30 when Sheldon called from school to say that his thermos was in his lunchbox but the lid wasn't on tight so it had all leaked out into his lunchbag.  He was concerned about what he'd eat, I was concerned about how bad the leak was.  He assured me that it was only his lunchbag (in a side pocket) that was wet.  I assured him that I'd bring him lunch.  All good.

Just before bell time I headed down to the school with hot soup in hand.  He met me at the office carrying his backpack in his outstretched arms and informed me that, in fact, his knapsack was wet too but nothing was ruined - he took everything out, he said - so I should take it home.

At home once again, I assessed the situation.  The bag was damp.  But not so much empty.  At the bottom I found a soupy library book and his grad photos.

Damp, creased grad photos.

Sigh.