Tomorrow I'm Staying Home

I am ready for a full-on day of introversion.

Yesterday I subbed for the five-year-old Sunday school class. Most of the five-year-old Sunday school class is not actually five yet. They just will be soon. They like to talk alot about poop and pee. I did a lot of topic changing.

Today we spent an hour in the waiting room at the optometrist so we could help Chris pick out glasses and drive him home after he got his eyes dialated. I got the twins' reading lessons and some knitting done--but in the end he wasn't as blind this year as he was last year and he couldn't make up his mind about glasses vs. contacts--so we didn't get any.

He was incapacitated by allergies again though, so I took all three kids to football. There is a very nice playground at the football place, so I was expecting to sit and knit and keep an eye on them while they played.

I had no counted on the small band of unparented children. Armed with squirtguns and water bottles. One of them SOAKED Milo's back. I told the little boy that he was not to do that again. The little boy looked peeved, but every time he'd go to soak Milo again he would look nervously over his shoulder and there I was. Standing. Giving him The Look. (My credential has lapsed, but I can still pull out The Look when I need to.)

Football practice is 2.5 hours long. I spent the first hour making sure my kids didn't get wet. I then got a half-hour of peace. Then three teenage boys showed up. One of them took an interest in Milo and seemed to keep wanting to talk to him. But it was just . . . wrong in a way I couldn't put my finger on. I've met plenty of little-kid-friendly male teens. I'm LDS, people. You can't swing a stick at church without thwacking some teenage boy who is unusually good with little kids. This was not that. So I was once again reduced to standing around looking like a pissed-off Mother Bear. He was stubborn, but I noticed he stopped standing between myself and Milo and after another few minutes, gave up and slunk away.

At the two-hour mark I was exhausted. So we left the playground and walked to the far end of the practice field and watched the last half-hour of Max's football practice. The twins said they were bored, but they coped.

We came home and I put the kids to bed and announced to Chris and anyone else who cared that I was declaring tomorrow Let's Not Forget Mom's an Introvert Day.

In knitting news, the Orenburg shawl kicked my patootie for a good six hours, but I've finally made a wee bit of progress on it. wee bit. Milo's green and white sweater has been cast on to size 8 addi turbos and is coming out at exactly the same gauge as the blue and white sweater. I'm trying not to think much about the situation.