Not Isaac, he is just brilliant. This title refers to Isaac's parents. Isaac's wonderful teacher called today and very gently reminded me that the assignment said to create an "I Can Read" can, NOT bag.
Lord Almighty, Isaac is doomed if I cannot follow directions as simple as those!*
We have a lot of grandparents and aunts who are eager to see what Isaac's typical school day looks like. I taped a bit of his time on the phone with his teacher today. The video is below.
Here is another brief slide show for your viewing pleasure. We did quite a bit of computer work today and ended the day with a little night school with daddy. I have not quite adjusted to balancing my job, school, house, boys, Anna, etc so we didn't finish school before the end of Anna's nap today. No worries there. Daddy is a great teacher and loves to be involved.
I must take a moment to address the moms who e-mailed me indicating that if stabbing themselves in the thumb will net them a day or two in bed, they will actively search out the sharpest knife in their house. Ladies, let me just clarify this issue. You will WANT to spend a few days in bed, but as a rule, an injured thumb does not garner much sympathy. You can read my husband's comments on the previous few posts if you need proof. If that is not enough evidence for you, please know that every time I discuss or show my injured thumb to my sister, ordinarily quite the sympathetic confidant, she recoils in horror and screeches, "Get your wonky thumb away from me!" While shopping this weekend, after SHE smashed the offending digit in a shoe box, I sought relief by resting my aching thumb on her nice cold soda bottle and she almost needed resuscitation she was so disgusted.
I don't recommend stabbing yourself in the thumb in order to attain a few days in bed.
Speaking of Esther, as mentioned in the previous post, she has preplanned the entertainment for my funeral. I cannot leave this earth without giving you, my loved ones, fair warning as to what you will encounter when you thoughtfully attend the service, planning to quietly pay your last respects, come to terms with my demise and leave with a sense of peace and dignity regarding my tragic, as I assume it will be, death.
Jesse was in need of some soothing music and the soundtrack to "Wicked" was just not cutting it. I popped in Simon and Garfunkel's greatest hits. What can possibly be more soothing than Scarborough Fair? As we drove dreamily to wherever it was we were going, Esther announced at the start of "Bridge Over Troubled Water" that for my funeral she planned to dress in a leotard and tights and dance interpretively whilst holding those lovely ribbons on sticks that you see the rhythmic gymnasts using.
Consider yourself warned.
*She was kidding people, she is utterly delightful and has a GREAT sense of humor. We could not ask for a better teacher. Please don't feel the need to flood me with e-mail telling me what an unreasonable teacher we have been stuck with.
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6 comments:
No, no...the ribbons will be attatched to the sleeves of my outfit. You also forgot to mention the overwhelmin use of jazz hands.
I'm only coming if we get to use the karaoke machine to seranade Cheri into heaven.
Whatever--you can't die! You guys already said you'd take Sam if WE die tragically, too late to get out of it now!!!
who said I was going to heaven?
{evil grin}
I'll vouch for that one...
Cherith and I have reserved seating near the fireplace on the 7th circle of hell...
Ask her...we made a deal...
:-)
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