Luck O' the Irish

Griffin: So, is St. Patrick one of the guys who brings stuff while we're sleeping?

Me: No, he's a Saint that teaches us how to be nice to people.

Griff: Oh!  Ok, I want to be a Saint.

Me:  Let's start with washing your hands after you use the restroom.  Then you can work on the Sainthood.

Library Time!

I have a confession, I mean I have plural but I'm not telling you all of them now (you know, like in the soaps when one day you come home early and your gardener is sleeping with your tennis instructor or somebody dead is alive again, or someone's all "Over my dead body!" [door slam])...  You know, like that.

I do this...  

I take the 3 year old to the library so I can e-communicate with the outside world.  That's me doing it, guilty.  And she totally loves it, double guilty.  Just don't tell her 15 year old self because that attitude is so bad, I can hear it 12 years into the future, as in right now.  Scary. 

More on that topic, is there some kind of karma law that confirms if I was a total a@@hole* as a teenager then my children will be as well?  Please God tell me no, because I was a rotter, an A++ rotter.  I'm a bit of an overachiever.   I once locked myself in my room for three days blasting Metallica as loud as my 1990 boom box would allow, why?  See earlier *.  And because I didn't make Varsity volleyball, oh the first world problems I've endured!  The horror.  

Okay, that was two things and I said I'd only admit to one so now it's your turn.  Fess up, you'll feel better.  

On flying south

 

Holy hell, look what the cat dragged in...  Me!  It's been a title, (f-ing autocorrect) titch, so I'll catch you up to speed.  I'm in Florida, for a "mommy-on-vaca", "daddy-and-kids-in-a-frozen-tundra", "mommy-guilt-spiral" weekend.  (Sorry to start things off with an exorbitant amount of punctuation, but I have to weed out the weak).  So, petitioning the wider Internet audience (Hi Ellen!) for backup, See?  If you let me go on more vacations, I'll write more!  We both win.  And China looses, more importantly.   

Status update: family in Ohio - yay.  

Griffin, now 5.5, in Pre-k: so thrilled, he loves it, kind of get a lot of "communication" from his teachers, all love though, read: I can't really say what I'm thinking, read: look for another anonymous blog on the horizon with possible dets.  He is super smart and though proud, I find myself daydreaming of the luxury of having a dumb kid who I may have a chance of outsmarting...

Camille, tomorrow 3.Years.Old, wow: easily the funniest person in our family/entire human race, capable of crumbling entire democracies with one word or flip of the double pony-tail.  Proficient in driving her older brother insane in seconds, mostly by employing the age old technique of ignoring the living shit out of him.  Can I just say that she is a MASTER at ignoring?  If ignoring was the single only weapon the earth had against its enemies, Camille would be the front line.  Completely solo.  I'm so not kidding.

Grant: frequent flyer debonnaire, did I just use that word correctly?  Most likely, not.  He makes being a dad look good, and all the while not breaking a sweat, which sometimes makes the conspiracy theorist in me check for computer wires while he's sleeping...  Kidding!  (?). He has the most good natured, level headed personality I have ever tried to destroy, er, I mean ever seen.  And he has the ability to make me hysterically laugh simply by shooting me a "are you totally f-ing serious right now" look.  One that he has mastered over the past 17 years, omg.  

Me: I am staying at home to orchestrate several futures, and once they fire me, I'll go back to work at the hospital, but for now, clean up time and constant bathroom repsponsibities are my forte of choice. I love being in O to the H, and thank God every day for my family here.  I miss dearly my NYC friends and habits but try to get back as much as I can to visit.  

Hunter:  gets his own update!  Yay!  Is happy to be home with us, eats all of the kids toys, mopes every time Grant leaves, seriously though?  Who feeds you, takes you to the vet, walks you, pets you, acknowledges your existence!  Me!  That's who!  But whatever, traitor.  

Hope to write more soon, but you know, broken promises don't look good on me.  

Have a great life!                      -Mr. Rossetti, St. Francis DeSales HS principle, 1999