Brianna is back at her school. So far, so good. After the first day back, we said,"Did you enjoy getting to play with Erica? Wasn't it fun to see her after so long?" "Well, no, not really. Erica has changed. She has a lot of bad ideas now--not good ones like we used to have." I asked what kind of bad ideas, thinking this was something like playing with puzzles instead of pretending to be kitties. "Well, bad ideas like hitting people and teasing them all the time and kicking and pinching. Those are not good ideas." Fortunately, the next day, Brianna announced, "Erika was much better today. She didn't do any hitting or teasing or anything bad. Now she just has good ideas like me again!" Getting ready for Christmas has her fairly satisfied with school for now, but I am not pleased to get the notice that tuition increases again Jan.1. Hoping for a better option to be revealed.

Brianna slept with some toy hot dogs under her pillow a few nights ago. She said it made her dream about hot dogs.

Brianna's question of the week: "Will there be movies in heaven? 'Cause I really like movies and you really like movies and I think a lot of people really like movies." I replied that I honestly don't know. She said, "Well, I guess we need to study some really important smart books like the Bible to find out." (Ah, the chronic problem for many people: all those things the Bible doesn't tell you that you think you really need to know.) Then she said, "'Cause you know the Bible is a special treasure book. The stories in it are true. They really happened. Like the story about Jesus being born. That really happened." She has said all this with an earnestness like she is trying to convince me, or perhaps preach a sermon. Then, she suddenly comes to the point where her confident certainty ends. "But Mom, Jesus was born a long time agao, so are all those people still real?" So I explained that Mary and Joseph and other people that lived when Jesus was born were not alive on earth anymore. I said, "Remember Uncle Harvey? He isn't alive on earth anymore. Now he is in heaven. Is he still real?" "Of course he is! And I know that he is in heaven but he is also still alive in our hearts." A few minutes thought, and then she said, "I hope Harvey is having a good time in heaven." I assured her that that was a pretty safe bet.

I wish I could push a button and get my musings while on the bus to show up here. There are a lot of them I would like to have written down. Although I sometimes try to accomplish a task, like grading papers or stringing a necklace, it is my best solid chunk of thinking time. There is less interference there than anywhere else in my life right now.

Yea! I remembered my log-in name and password! Woohoo for me! It seems that every time my computer access at work changes, I do not manage to blog for several weeks. And when I come back--finally--I have usually forgotten my log-in info and getting that delays my re-entry into blogdom another day or so. But I am finally settled in my own office with my own computer--well, "settled" might be a bit optimistic--I am still surrounded by boxes waiting to be unpacked--, so now maybe I will be a more consistent blogger. Believe it when we see it.
Yesterday was our 8th wedding anniversary. A charmed and romantic day it was not. My IBS has been raging for the past few days, so I have been in the bathroom or in bed completely drained pretty much all the time I am home. Yuck. Which also leads to the laundry and dishes piling up and me being cranky. Yuck. We were way too busy to even relax and have fun last night anyway since we have taken on a few extra projects with looming deadlines. Yuck. When we walked in the door last night, the house smelled like cat poop. Yuck. While I ate something bland in the other room, Paul moved furniture and cleaned floors looking for the problem. Yuck. Then he saw Snowball, the cat who has moved in with us but doesn't let us touch her. She had clearly had a bad case of diarrhea that left her behind, her back legs and her tail a mess. Yuck. So every spot she touched in the house was getting some of her stinky mess. Yuck. Paul finally cornered her and got hold of her. We filled the kitchen sink with warm soapy water and tried to scrub her down. Although it definitely required both of us, she was surprisingly cooperative. Then I dried her a bit and tried to keep her calm and in my lap while Brianna kept shouting from her room, "Can I pet Snowball now?" (The opportunities to pet her are so few because we so seldom manage to get our hands on her.) and I kept shouting back, "NOT NOW!" Snowball managed to escape me before getting all dry, but she seemed to manage to finish the job herself--she looked good this morning. By the time Snowball had escaped, Brianna was crying because of the shouting--"It makes me feel like nobody wants me," she whines as she snuggles in my arms and we watch her fabulous 4-foot fiber-optic Christmas tree, which reflects in her mirrored wall so that it actually seems like there are two in her room. Please. She finally relaxed and Paul and I took a few minutes in the middle of piled projects to open gifts others had sent us. But I still had to keep working after that for several hours. But the truly amazing thing about this anniversary is this: It actually is not the worst anniversary we have ever had--not even close! Thinking back, I'd have to say this one wasn't so bad at all.