I turned my resignation in last Friday, and then... I guess I've just sort of put everything on hold... waiting for my last day. This is no way to live. I know it. My dad called yesterday morning at some horribly reasonable hour (10am?) and... yes, I was still in bed. The kids were up, however. He laughed at me. How is it he can tell I'm still in bed, no matter how perky I make my voice, even when he's thousands of miles away? (He's travelling... somewhere in Washington.)
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Three times this morning I've opened my mouth to spell something for my just-turned-seven-year-old and three times I've been beat to the punch. She asks, "How do you spell ___?" and her big sister has the answer before I can even get the letters arranged in my head. Finally, she asked for a word her sister didn't know -- She asked, "How do you spell STRESSED?" Now I have to go see what in the heck she is writing.
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Yesterday was the official birthday of my 6, now 7-year-old. We have a tendency to drag these birthday celebrations out. Anyway, after struggling for weeks to come up with an appropriate gift, we finally decided to give her money and take her shopping. It was a pick-your-own-gift sort of birthday. I hope she doesn't grow up and tell stories about how lame we were as parents. I got the honor of taking her to the store yesterday to shop for an hour and a half! I don't know where these kids get their shopping genes. It certainly doesn't come from me. But I swore I wouldn't rush her, and I'd just let her take her time and pick. I mostly succeeded. After covering every inch of the electronics/toy/home decorating sections TWICE -- she ended up with a personal CD player with headphones, her own set of rechargeable batteries, and a car seat for a doll. Yep, there's a little bit of little girl left in there somewhere.
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Still don't know when my last day of work is actually going to be, but perhaps after six days of sitting around waiting for it, I've convinced myself it's not getting here any faster. Life is good, and I'll keep living it.
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