where wildly different is perfectly normal
Stream of consciousness
Stream of consciousness

Stream of consciousness

I’m tired of busy. I’m tired of complaining of how busy I am. This week has just flown by, and I’ve just been caught in its wake.


A had his OT evaluation yesterday. It’ll be a couple of weeks before we get the full report, but the OT did notice several things right off the bat. I was just thrilled (sad, isn’t it?) that A reacted to writing and frustration during the eval the same way he does at home: tears, refusal to do it, that sort of thing. I was so glad she got to see that. She also recognized his need for deep pressure, and thought he might have some auditory processing issues. I’ve thought for years that he might have auditory processing issues, but didn’t think he could be testing until he was at least 8 years old. So hopefully we’ll be able to work on that.


While A was at his OT eval, I snuck out to go to the goal setting conference with his teacher. I’m still trying to figure her out. I think she’s a good teacher, just a lousy classroom manager. A is learning great things (Mesopotamia, anyone? Gate of Ishtar? This is 1st grade!) and loves school, despite the chaos in the room. As soon as we get the OT eval report, we’ll meet with the teacher and principal to set up accomodations for A to help him with the weaknesses that are holding back his strengths. And apparently his math skills are very strong; he’ll be getting into fractions this year. God help me, that’s my weakest area. A wants to work for NASA…I think he’ll make it.


I’m going on my twice-yearly scrapbooking retreat with my five best friends next weekend. I can’t wait. I need to get out of here to feed and nurture my creative side. I went to a stamping party last night and I couldn’t believe how good I felt when I got home. I forget that side of me when I’m in the thick of it all. Unfortunately, I’m a “I’ll play when my work is done” kind of person…which screws me badly because my work is never, ever done. So I don’t play. Seriously, I work on my computer and around the house until I collapse in bed, pretty much every night. That ain’t good for the soul. So I’m going away for 3 1/2 beautiful, glorious days, in the autumn loveliness that is Winter Park, Colorado in the fall.


I heard “Here Comes Santa Claus” as part of a JC Penneys ad yesterday. Why is this necessary? I don’t want to hear Christmas music in September, I’m still harvesting tomatoes. Penneys, don’t make me hate you. Stop the Christmas music already.


September in Colorado is heaven on earth. After the painfully hot and baking days of August, September’s hot days are more temperate. The days are deliciously warm, often with a light breeze. The evenings are cool, cool enough for a light jacket, or a toasty blanket on the bed. The a/c is activated during the day, with the switch moved over to heat for the night. The leaves start to change. The golds of the aspen trees glow under that blue, blue sky. They don’t just change color, they glow from the inside out, adding even more golden glimmer to the more golden sunlight. The dark green of the evergreens just enhance this color change. You just walk around with a smile on your face, and more of a spring in your step, because of the beauty and the sweet, warm breeze in your hair. The Broncos play on Sundays. Pots of chili bubble on the stove. Corner parking lots are fragrant with the scent of roasting chilis…mmmm… Colors are more vibrant, more alive here in September. Colorado lives for September.


Today is Tom’s 41st birthday. He is the youngest 41 year old I know. I’ve seen the people he went to high school and college with and I tell ya, he’s young. And damned good looking. 🙂 He’s like a fine wine, just improves with age. I met his grandfather before he died at age 96; Tom is the spitting image of his grandfather, who had a full head of hair until the day we buried him. I love my husband dearly, and now I shall hop off the computer to celebrate his birthday with him.

Have a great weekend.

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