***Update to add...this afternoon we discovered that our male fiddler crab, Krecka, died today too. Poor Seven. We had a crabby funeral after school.***
Seven was having a rough day today. It started first thing in the morning when he didn't want to wear the clothes I laid out for him: jeans and a Hawaiian shirt (because first grade was having a luau to celebrate the end of Terra Nova--Tennessee's standardized tests). Here's the conversation:
Seven: Mommy, I can't wear these jeans today.
Me: Why not? What's wrong with them?
Seven: Well, I can't wear them because people in Hawaii don't wear pants.
Ten: (laughing hysterically) What--do they run around in their underwear all the time?
Seven: No! But they don't wear pants. They wear skirts made of grass.
Me: No, honey. They mostly wear regular clothes just like us. Only the Polynesian dancers in the tourist shows wear grass skirts. And those are just the women. The men don't wear skirts.
Seven: Mommy, we've been studying Hawaii all week and I know I'm supposed to wear a skirt.
Me: Baby, your daddy is NOT going to let you wear a skirt to school today. Or, you know, ever. Besides which, we don't even HAVE a skirt small enough to fit you because we only have boys in this house. Now put your jeans on and get ready.
Seven: (grumbling) Okay, but I really think I'm supposed to wear a skirt.
Then, when we got to the drop-off spot for car riders, I pulled into the lane farthest from the building so I could park and wait for Grace to meet me. I told Seven to walk up to the crosswalk and then cross over, like we've done dozens of times before. So what does he do? Runs across the lane of moving vehicles to get to the OTHER sidewalk!! ARGH!
THEN, Grace called my cell phone from inside the school and said, "Seven can't find his lunchbox. Did he leave it in the car?" I looked around and, no, it wasn't there. I knew he hadn't left it at home so I was wondering how on earth he'd lost the darn thing in the short walk from the door to his classroom. Apparently I dropped them off a couple of minutes early so they had to wait in the gym until the bell rang and he'd left it in the gym. Someone found it and took it to the office.
Later that afternoon when it was time for the luau I was talking to another teacher. A mom came to get me and said that Seven was crying. Turns out a girl who is not a very good friend (and that's the nicest way I can think of to say it) told him she wouldn't be his friend any more because he played with someone else on the playground. ARGH! This little girl is mean to Seven and has pulled this "I won't be your friend if you play with other girls" crap many, many times this year. She's made him cry at least five times. I keep telling him not to play with her, but he keeps forgiving her and taking her back. I wish he would man up and grow a pair and just tell her that he doesn't want to be friends with mean girls, but he won't do it. Daddy's going to talk to him about it tonight.
I took Seven for a walk so we could spend some time alone together and talk about it, but of course we veered off into other subjects...
Seven: Have you ever wondered if you're going to do something great?
Me: Like what? What kind of things?
Seven: Like Martin Luther King, Jr. Do you think when he was a kid he knew that someday he'd do great things? Because I think maybe when I'm a grownup I'm going to do really great things too. I can't wait for that to happen. Maybe I'll do something really important before I'm a grownup.
Notice how I didn't say, "Not if you don't quit hanging out with snotty little mean girls"? That's showing amazing personal restraint, don't you think?
Oh, and for those of you waiting for an update on the job and diet...
I don't know anything about the job interview yet. The principal is hoping to make a decision and let me know something Monday. Keep all crossable body parts crossed, please.
Yesterday I walked the dog for 2.5 miles, then did another 3.18 miles on the treadmill. I walked/ran for an hour and burned 375 calories. I've been off caffeine since Monday morning and I'm still headache-free and haven't killed anyone all week. I asked Ten to read the number on the scale for me this morning--it's not digital and it's hard to see all those little black lines. When he told me the number he asked, "Is that in pounds?" I told him that it was and he said, "Wow. Isn't that kind of...light? You know, for an adult?" I thought about raising his allowance and then I remembered he doesn't get one.
Maybe I should start giving him one so I can increase it when he says nice things like that.