So Alive

Whew, man.  Thursdays are going to have to be no blog days.  I just spent the first half of the day drilling my kids, plus a bunch of others, about the classifications of living things, Latin noun cases, and the geographic particulars of the fertile crescent.  And then there was the dissecting of a bean we completed, and the art class after that.  By lunch I was ready for a glass of wine.  Instead, I ate a hard-boiled egg and drank Diet Coke and stared off into space.  Too bad I found out, 20 minutes too late, that while I’d packed a mostly healthy lunch for my kids, that canned juice I included for special occasions, those cute little cans Husband bought to wake him up for his morning work-outs…

Yeah.  They were energy drinks, each with more caffeine than a cup of coffee.  My eight-year-old daughter positively bounced up to my lunch table (I was sitting separate–so sue me) and said, “I feel so alive.”  I squinted at her suspiciously.  We don’t feel “so alive” in this house.  And then she mentioned the 80 milligrams of caffeine she’d read about on the back of her “natural juice” can.  She mentioned it while jogging in place, to be precise.

“Just…don’t tell me, OK, honey?  I don’t want to know that.  Just go, babe.  Go.”  I happened to be sitting by Health Nut Mom, who overheard this exchange.  I smiled at her wanly, my mouth dry with hard-boiled egg.  I took a big swig of Diet Chemicals, shrugged my shoulders, and muttered, “Mom fail.”

We still had the whole afternoon before us, where my boys would work on English grammar, diagramming sentences, and whatnot.  And now they felt so alive.  So alive, in fact, that I had to give Oldest Son hate eyes several times during the following two hours.  He repaid me by offering ‘malevolent’ as an adjective to modify the word ‘mom’ in class.  I pretended to chuckle, for to do otherwise would cause me to seem mean and uptight to the other moms in the room.  And if there’s one thing I want to seem, it’s laid back yet accomplished.

But if Oldest Boy had been sitting next to me, in the back row of the room, he’d have heard a tiny voice whispering, I’ll get you my pretty.  And your little dog too.


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