Back to Work
I'm fairly well rested from my 12 hour run to Gatwick and back, and it's almost time to start trying to tackle tort law again. Before I do, I'm savouring the quiet in the house. My littlest two, Ricky and Jack, are at their dad's house tonight because I didn't know what time I would be back from London. We swapped nights rather than me be late to pick them up from school. And, obviously, Malorie and Braden aren't here because they will have made it to DFW Airport by now. My dad will be spoiling them by taking them to Taco Bell, and the kids will ring me later to rub in the fact that they've had Taco Bell and I haven't.
The sadness at having a house with no kids in it hasn't hit yet. It could be due to the fact that in the last 24 hours that they were all here, they drove me bonkers. Jack had suddenly decided that the dog was a horse and spent yesterday evening trying to ride Mitch. He took over an hour to do his homework because he was more interested in anything but his homework. Ricky was probably the most well behaved of the lot, but he still had a good time trying to wind everyone else up so that they got on my nerves.
Malorie kept disappearing outside to say good-bye to one of the multitude of boys she fancies. This is the first time I've ever heard her say she didn't really want to go to her dad's house. There are no boys there. Braden doesn't count. He's her brother. She also complains that her father is going to kill her for dying her hair, and she says no matter what he says, she is NOT going without her make up.
Braden, though, gets the prize for getting on my last nerve. I was packing their clothes, wrapping Christmas presents for my family in Texas, trying to cook dinner, rushing around shopping, etc. I asked Braden to run his house key around to my friend Lynn's house so she could let the dog out today while I was gone. (Nothing like coming home to piles of dog poo.) I went to the petrol station and filled up the car, did the shopping, came home ... no Braden. When we finally managed to drag him home, he alternated between snapping at his little brothers ("I am NOT taking you with me to walk the dog!" sending them into hysterics) and hugging me.
But he won the prize at 2.50 this morning.
"Braden, come on, it's time to go."
"I haven't made my sandwiches yet."
"What have you been doing for the past 20 minutes."
"Gelling my hair."
Worse than a girl.
The temporary empty-nest will get to me next week when Ricky and Jack are with their dad for the first half of the Christmas holidays. For the next two nights, I'm going to relish the peace and quiet that (hopefully) will allow me to critically analyse this problem question. Thank goodness there's no right or wrong answer, but I still have to get the case law right. I hate problem questions.
The sadness at having a house with no kids in it hasn't hit yet. It could be due to the fact that in the last 24 hours that they were all here, they drove me bonkers. Jack had suddenly decided that the dog was a horse and spent yesterday evening trying to ride Mitch. He took over an hour to do his homework because he was more interested in anything but his homework. Ricky was probably the most well behaved of the lot, but he still had a good time trying to wind everyone else up so that they got on my nerves.
Malorie kept disappearing outside to say good-bye to one of the multitude of boys she fancies. This is the first time I've ever heard her say she didn't really want to go to her dad's house. There are no boys there. Braden doesn't count. He's her brother. She also complains that her father is going to kill her for dying her hair, and she says no matter what he says, she is NOT going without her make up.
Braden, though, gets the prize for getting on my last nerve. I was packing their clothes, wrapping Christmas presents for my family in Texas, trying to cook dinner, rushing around shopping, etc. I asked Braden to run his house key around to my friend Lynn's house so she could let the dog out today while I was gone. (Nothing like coming home to piles of dog poo.) I went to the petrol station and filled up the car, did the shopping, came home ... no Braden. When we finally managed to drag him home, he alternated between snapping at his little brothers ("I am NOT taking you with me to walk the dog!" sending them into hysterics) and hugging me.
But he won the prize at 2.50 this morning.
"Braden, come on, it's time to go."
"I haven't made my sandwiches yet."
"What have you been doing for the past 20 minutes."
"Gelling my hair."
Worse than a girl.
The temporary empty-nest will get to me next week when Ricky and Jack are with their dad for the first half of the Christmas holidays. For the next two nights, I'm going to relish the peace and quiet that (hopefully) will allow me to critically analyse this problem question. Thank goodness there's no right or wrong answer, but I still have to get the case law right. I hate problem questions.
posted by Melinda at 12/14/2004 07:10:00 pm
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