My God, it’s full of shoes.

My honey recently ordered shoes over the Internets. We received them yesterday. The box is huge! And yes, it’s full of shoes. He didn’t order just one pair. Some people buy a lot of shoes, but they rarely buy the same pair more than once. He did. He ordered five. Five identical pairs of black Reebok shoes! This way he will have a fresh pair for each workday and the rest can stay at home and do what shoes do while they’re not being worn. This is important (somehow, I guess). He already had two identical pairs, which was working pretty well for him in its own way, but apparently not well enough. He claims he once had four pairs of identical shoes (I don’t remember this). We shall see if five somehow solves all the ills that two or even four wasn’t able to cover. At least, this way, they last a long time and he does walk a lot so… perhaps there’s something to this.

Naturally, he sent me out shopping for Odor-Eaters.
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The good, the bad and the past week

It was quite a seven days. 

My six-year-old daughter stood in front of an elementary school gymnasium full of students & parents and belted out “Down By the Bay.”  Brave kid.  As she stood there about to sing, my knees grew weak as butterflies seemed to grow to the size of bats, I could imagine the 50 billion things that could go wrong–from forgetting the words to walking off the stage in the wrong direction to a broken microphone to her peeing in her pants. But thankfully, she performed beautifully. She can actually carry a tune (unlike me who couldn’t carry one if you gave me a fork lift).  She got some laughs where the song is funny and she even bowed gracefully.  Is there anything better?
With this past week also came the last day of school. Report cards were sent out and I’m pleased as punch with her grades. 
She struggled in the “Exhibits Self Control” behavior section all year. It had been her only “N” — “Needs Improvement.” I was worried that at any moment somebody might call and have a talk with me about ADHD. She’s a creative kid with a lot of energy which generally translates to creative problem solving. Not a bad thing in and of itself, but creative problem solving sometimes means not following the rules. For example, when her best friend was moved to the other side of the classroom, my daughter decided to crawl under the tables to get to across the room. She didn’t think the teacher would see her. Another time she was loudly humming “Immigrant Song” in class (not music class)… Rock on, baby girl!  And many times she’s just too busy being a Tiger to finish her classwork. But we worked all year on helping her to, well, ya know — Improve in that area so that she no longer Needs to Improve. 
We can always strive for improvement no matter how good we get, but it’s that tricky little “Needs” in front that kept tripping her up. All year long her teacher had be giving out special pencils to any 1st grader who received a report card with zero Ns.  So finally… yes, she did it. ZERO Ns.  She got a pencil and we’re all just as pleased as could be. It is the single best pencil ever! Some other grades saw improvement too. And whether it was due to the fact that she’s been taking some extra vitamins or because she’s just getting more mature and working harder, I’m verrrry happy for her and I could tell she was proud of herself too. She said that her best friend did not get a pencil and commented that she felt that her own life was very lucky.  I about cried.  I told her that it wasn’t luck, but hard work that earned her the pencil and that she did a great job.
Later in the week we went to a great BBQ and pool party where Sara got to swim for hours and we all got to eat our fill of some delicious Lebanese style chicken along with roasted broccoli and cauliflower. There were friends, fireflies and fun times.  It’s great to spend time outside during what is pretty much my favorite time of the year–not hot, not cold and fireflies. Pure paradise.
The single down time, the bad?  Being patted on my midsection by a smiling human who seems to think that a full tummy=me being pregnant. No, I am not. And if anybody else touches my stomach and asks, I may send my fists flying. Don’t adults know better? Ack!  Not that I wouldn’t mind another child, but there isn’t one there now, so don’t ask. Consider yourself warned.
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