Like Five Posts All Thrown Willie Nillie into One

“Mom?” Penny calls to me, “What colors are pandas . . . mostly?”

“Mostly? Well, I think they’re just mostly black and white.”

“OK,” she replies as she runs off, “’Cause I’m writing a paper of facts about pandas; and I don’t actually know too many facts.”

It would seem so.
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For months, my weekly pregnancy updates have compared the size of my growing baby to various produce. Suddenly, several weeks ago (shortly after Summer reached the impressive size of a banana) and with no real warning, the comparisons simply stopped. Now, she’s just . . . inches. I’d been imaging delivering a watermelon, or, perhaps, a giant Hubbard squash. I hardly know what to prepare for now!

But, perhaps, something similar to one of these?

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Speaking of pregnancy. I went for a run yesterday. My shirt seemed to fit over my bulging belly just fine . . . initially, however, something about the motion of running (along with the way the shirt was tugged on by my outer sweatshirt) caused it to repeatedly migrate upward so that I spent the duration of my run battling a pooh bear like appearance.

As if that wasn’t enough to contend with, the gray skies I left under gathered their gray little darkness even closer and began a pelting rain. As I tugged my shirt awkwardly back into place (for the hundredth time) and mumbled something defiant like, “Rain shmain. I’ve lived and run in the Pacific Northwest,” the clouds raised their haughty little eyebrows in an “Oh really?” fashion and erupted in a full hail storm. Ouch.

One sweet elderly couple did add to my cheer over the state of humanity by stopping to offer me a ride. I didn’t accept (though I thanked them profusely for their kind offer – assuring them I was nearly home . . . even though that “nearly” was a bit of stretch . . . ), but I get the opportunity to be out rarely enough that, when I do, I must take it – come “hail” or high water. Hahahoho. That was a good one. ‘Cause, you know, it’s not supposed to be that kind of hail only, it was that kind of hail. Get it? Funny? Hahaha . . . Oh never mind.
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It’s spring break. The weather has been atrocious (remember the hail?), but I don’t mind. Sometimes big plans are fun, but I also am quite fond of NO big plans. We’re staying in pajamas long into the day. I’m reading Watership Down to the older kids. We’re making cupcakes. Maybe going to the library, or to Michaels for a few crafty things for the kids. Mike might take them to the new Muppets movie after work one night. Mostly just nothing.

Nothing. Nothing on the agenda. Nothing planned. I’ve always loved when nothing is on the horizon, but, especially now, as my family has grown and become more involved in various activities, and more needing to be certain places at certain times. Most days are, of necessity, filled with lots of somethings. I adore nothing.

Though . . . not completely nothing. One of the things I love the very most about having older kids is that, when they feel like it, they happily take my “nothing” and turn it into a “something”.

For example, I’ve never done much with April Fools’ Day, but I woke up yesterday to kids laughing and giggling because Abe had woken up early and covered the girls’ door completely with streamers, moved all our couches, covered the TV with camping pads, dumped various balls all over the living room, set out several lovely plates of plastic food for breakfast, and taped string from wall to wall through out the house so that you couldn’t move more than a few feet without climbing, ducking or limbo-ing.

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Anywho, that’s the end of all of that I suppose. I’m off to do more nothing. (Oh, all right, not exactly. Some kids need baths. . . . And, also, Penny just threatened to “punch” someone “in the face.” Oh my.  It can’t really ever be all “nothing”.)

(Yah. Go ahead and try to make Anders stand somewhere else. Go ahead and try to make him let someone hold him even. Go ahead and try to get everyone looking at the camera at the same time as nobody is doing something like Abe is doing. It’s really not even worth trying. Sigh.)