joel is driving around the house on his john deer ATV in his uniform these days: his froggy pajamas, some purple and green old pajamas that used to be ruth’s when she was two that he refuses to wear anything but. every now and again donning a straw hat and making funny faces at himself in the mirror.
ruth is in her own ruth uniform: nothing but undees. why? the simple solution to her clothing problem. if every time she has a meltdown whenever she changes into clothes for the day or pajamas at night, she has simply decided to forgo all the fuss and just stay in undees both day and night. simple solution, right? except she’s always imploring me to turn the heat up and give her a blanket and otherwise, she’s got to be freezing. we keep the house at a cheap 66 degrees and I often wear numerous sweaters and am never without my trusty slippers. I can’t complain, though. the only problems we have are when she needs to change her underwear, once a day. then she raises holy hell for a few minutes but usually calms down relatively quickly.
“what would happen if we sent her to kindergarten next year?” I asked greg the other day, “she wouldn’t be able to keep doing these crazy things. she’d be forced to conform,” I said with a mix of longing and rebellious indignation. another thing we just can’t make up our minds about. like I always say, the answer will probably be extremely clear in about ten years or more. as for now, we are just treading water. constantly treading water.
earlier, ruth was watching her reality tv show on youtube of a family that posts all of its home videos online. the daughter is in gymnastics, is how ruth found it in the first place this past summer. now, she’s obsessed. she sits on the couch snacking with her face literally inches from the screen, ready to scream if the thing freezes for even a second, which it often does.
now, she’s on the phone with her grandmother, giving her every detail of our lives here lately. I just love that. especially when she tells her that joel is crying “because mom is yelling at him”. yup, that’s me. abusive yelling mother. or when she tells her we’re having leftovers for dinner and that she doesn’t like any of the food. wow. call me a winner, right here. table three. party of one.
yup, just a normal day here. I’ve done three loads of laundry, two rounds of dishes, picked up the kids toys only to have them dump them out right behind me as I walk away. tripping over the dog. thwarting the cats efforts to maim the children as they walk by. wondering why our goldfish have suddenly developed the black plague and have black spots all over. how is your day?