Good Mourning

Hot diggety dog! Put another log on the fire! Batten down the hatches! Hit the basement, because boy-howdy do we have another wicked front blowing in!

Peanut's teacher informed me (minutes after finding out herself) that she'd be having semi-emergency surgery the beginning of April. And Peanut would finish out the year with a sub.

Yesterday Peanut came in the door after school and instantaneously melted into a sobbing puddle on the entryway floor wailing about me not hanging up her backpack. For ten minutes. We finished the backpack episode and I said, "did Mrs. B say something to you today?"

Instant silence.

"Did Mrs. B tell you some bad news?"

"NO!!!!!! I WON'T TALK ABOUT IT!!!!!!

So I scoop her up and sit on my bed and rocked her. And she told me about it.

She told me about it.

We strategized about how we'd handle it, and had a snack.

Then bedtime came, and a wailing, flailing Peanut wailed and flailed herself to sleep.

This morning, her shoes were too hard to put on. Yet, they kept slipping off. And apparently it was preferable to freeze her buns of rather than wear her coat. Which she threw across the yard. But she did opt for walking onto the bus herself, as opposed to having me carry her like a loaf of french bread. So that's good.

I figure our family will stabilize, oh, round about the middle of June.