Being that a person does not live on junk food alone, I decided to make for tonight's dinner roast-in-the-crock-pot. Easy enough - cut veggies at the bottom, seasoned roast on top, beef broth thrown in. Turn on. Go play on the computer, watch Battlestar Galactica, or take a hike to the creek with the girl.
I had class last night and I'm relatively pleased with how it went, considering that I seriously did not want to be there - the students didn't throw tomatoes or claim that they were sooooo confused. I told them I was into "feelings" and if they "felt" they were getting to the edge of understanding, that was good enough for now. I gave them the answers (going over with them) to half the homework and gave them another week to work out the problems. I also postponed the exam so they could get another boost towards comprehension. They seemed to appreciate my flexibility. It's not that I'm insensitive to their whining (being the whiner-expert that I am) but I do get impatient when they don't want to use available material as a means to learning. I also get frustrated when they don't ask me to help them, choosing to point fingers at me rather than tackle the problem.
My 7-yr old might have childhood depression according to his doctor - this morning he was happy, having eaten all his French Toast of course, and actually wanted to listen to classical music in the car. He likes our routine - I play classical music every morning on the way to school to "feed our collective brains" instead of playing his latest craze: speed metal rock. The rule of classical-music-only has totally eradicated early-morning arguments for radio-control. I was glad he noticed the silence - I hadn't turned the radio on at all.
My daughter was being a supreme 4-yr-old thang this morning - demanding, sassy, yelling, inflexible. I definitely contemplated dropping her off at the pre-school even though she was wearing stockings, elephant slippers, and baby-doll pajamas with polka dots. It's a little cold? Stand close to the teacher. Hold a guinea pig. Hug a block. She redeemed herself when she told me about the monsters in her dreams with the big eyes and that I had to rescue her.
My 11-yr old called from school this morning to tell me he has morning-detention tomorrow for failing to get his progress report from math class signed by a parent. I wonder why he wouldn't show it to us? Insert gnashing of teeth.
I'm still searching for a life recipe easy as roast-in-a-crock-pot.