Busy Signal...

There is something about a busy signal that strokes my violent and irrational side. Why couldn't Mr. Bell, when inventing the phone with all of it's elementary intricacies, conjure a less annoying sound to indicate the needed party was otherwise engaged? Like a bird chirping or a melodious hum. This is a very long way of saying that I am irritated because I have been trying to get on the phone with the Rec Center people to sign up for some extracurriculars. I don't want ALL of the extracurriculars, just some. I am not a Rec-hog. So why have I (and Kent) tried calling every 3 seconds for 45 minutes to no avail? You do the math. Repeatedly annoying sounds X us (divided respectively) by "Ballet-less" thoughts of our 5 years old= AHHHHHHH!

Bella however has accomplished a tremendous feat this week.


A: Succeed in wearing whatever-the-freak she wants on the first day of school and all subseqent days. Check. I did convince her that brown and brown don't necessarily go together. I simply had to appeal to her "Fancy Nancy inner self" and that one settled itself.



B: Charm the entire Kindergarten class. Check.



C: Confirm that she is indeed better then anyone else on the monkey bars. Check.


D: Stay seated on the bus, rather then "bumpity-bump to the ground like the first fun day."



My To-Do list looked something like this:


A: Remember to put a bra on before going to the bus stop. Check.


B. Get home before someone sees the tears, throwing myself across the bed to wail ridiculously about what feels to be my child's venture into the great adversarial unknown. How did she grow up so quick? Check.


C. And true to form had to have Kent come home to go get the pictures that I was too mentally preoccupied to take before she hopped on the bus. I DIDN'T TAKE FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL PICTURES! What kind of mother am I?! So, inevitablly doubt all things I have done and am doing in the motherhood arena. Checkity-check!


All is well in the end of the week. I hold her in my arms a little longer at night now. I stop to stare at her eyes when she is talking (which is alot). I dance a little more with her, and clean a little less. She helps more and is more kind to her brother. So I have given life "the bird" or maybe just a busy signal so I can hold her longer and more. My house looks like it too. Hmmmmm, maybe there is something positive to a busy signal after all.









This is it honey. Your first day of school picture that will follow you until your old and wrinkled. You first and ONLY....I am so so sorry.