At the Riskies.

And, in case any of you doubted my guy’s ability to be both hyperbolic and kind of a good writer–this is from a piece he wrote recently (and he even spelled ‘maelstrom’ right!):

“I was in the Gettysburg Museum, and was silently crying my heart out in a maelstrom of anguish and depression.”

The piece then goes on to describe how buying a red plush teddy bear helped assuage the anguish. Because, you know, red plush teddy bears do such things.

I love you like the jubilant eyes of the wonderful, mysterious octopi,
you help me in life through and through (like the protective mother of a cockatoo).
You make me happy, as happy as an iguanadon, and I love it that I get to call you Mom.

Today I sent in the middle school application. My son chose the school that is farthest away from our house, requiring a close-to-an-hour bus ride. It is a super-challenging academic school, and I was honestly surprised that my occasionally lazy child would want to go there. But he does. He thinks, in his words, that he will get “an excellent education.” Yeah, but you do know there’s massive homework, right?

So that part of the year is done, and now we wait for the testing/auditions (yup, auditions to get into the school–he wants either creative writing or art, it’s kind of like choosing a major, only for middle school), and then more waiting, and I think we find out where he got into in April.

Onto the next fun: Holidays! And I’m still riding the 21 hours of sleep I got over the weekend, so it doesn’t seem that daunting. Give me a few days.

Megan

Too busy, not to mention insanely dull, to post actual words. But I did down/up load some pictures, so I thought I’d share: