Did I say it was too quiet?

Well, we HAVE had a quiet week, really and truly. Some days, that worked (like yesterday, with the spontaneous fountain magic). Other days, like today, the day just seemed loooong with no plans until our swim date with the Atkinsons at 4:30. I know we need downtime, I know we need a break from any scheduled lessons, I know I need time to do stuff like weed through my tupperware cabinet and fling the topless and bottomless stuff (sorry, that sounds racy, I know). But I seem to get really antsy when we have too much time without items on the agenda -- either outings or things accomplished together at home. I totally admire other families, esp. other homeschoolers, who can just be so at peace with tons of unstructured time at home. And I feel like a total oddball sometimes, but I just can't do that for very long. I mean, I can do it when the kids are involved in some gloriously creative tomfoolery involving the dress-up box or homemade catapults or whatever, or we're snuggled up on the couch reading a good book together and no one's climbing on my neck. But when the boredom hits and they descend into bickering, to the tune of "Mooooooomm! ____ did _____ to me!" or they flop around sighing, or the only book being delved into is Calvin and Hobbes and I'm being badgered for computer time, and I don't quite know what to do with myself because I suddenly find myself with unexpected time where no one needs/wants my presence, but if I start something meaningful (like a blog post or scrapbook page) my presence with be IMMEDIATELY and URGENTLY needed, and goodness sakes, who really wants to make like a hamster on a treadmill and pick up around the house with every spare pocket of time???

I think that last sentence was a phenomenal run-on.

I also think this is a bit of a downer of a post ... but yesterday's was just so picture perfect that in the interest of honesty I feel an obligation to give you the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth -- as I see it, anyway. Which is, in so many words, that we have our magical moments and our moments where I'm stymied and my kids, like kids across America on 100-degree days, are bored and have to be admonished testily by their mother to go be productive if they don't like her ideas. Heh.

But I leave you with this proof that even the most unambitious of days can suddenly sprout wings. On Tuesday morning -- how did I NOT blog this before? -- my dear, dear, toddling daughter, who has been warned more than once about this behavior, stuck a dehydrated pea in her nostril to amuse her older siblings. (I was purging the cloth diaper stash in the other room.) Can you guess what happened?

If you guessed that the pea got stuck so far up that she could neither sneeze nor blow it out, and had to be taken to the minor-emergency clinic to have it extracted by a highly amused doctor, you would be right. I texted my fam during the ordeal and my brother Paul, that master of the dry wit (Jim from The Office is modeled after him), texted back, "O Lord, release the pea!"

Which is one of the reasons I love him. :-) After all, it's not every brother who would petition the heavens for supernatural dislodging of vegetable matter from uncomfortable places.