Happy dance

My boys have been off track for 3 weeks now. I pretend that I don't like it, the whole year round off track business. But really I do. I like that I get to be with them all day and listen to them play. I like to stand at the top of the stairs while they are pretending to be knights with their trusty swords and shields, protecting princess Paige from a fiery dragon. They won't always play pretend. I like to wake up late and not have the rush of breakfast and backpacks. I like that one of the boys will inevitably come in every morning when they hear Brooks and insist on taking him out to watch cartoons. I like that we can go to Disneyland when no one else is there.

There is a lot to like really. But this week has been full of grading and school and then more grading. Not so much to like there. So I went on strike. I left my papers on the table and we packed up and headed to Gateway. My kids love the childrens museum. I do not. But that is irrelevant because they do and that is what matters. Paige loves to play cashier at the store and the boys love to climb the rock wall and pretend to fly the helicopter outside and put on a play and become a weatherman on the news. They run from one thing to the next. And I follow along with the babe in tow and smile at the boundless energy these 3 have. And then suddenly I am done. Somewhere around the realm of 2 hours-ish I can no longer stand the germ fest and we pack up and leave before anyone can start to cry or tantrum or beg. Today it worked.

And because it is unthinkable for me to leave a mall without entering at least one store, we make our way to the Gap. It is just across the street and I do need new jeans. That in itself is reason to celebrate. New jeans in a smaller size thank you very much. So we shop. It is not enjoyable. But alas, I find jeans and perform a happy dance in the dressing room to the amusement of all 4 children. We proceed to the cash register to purchase said jeans and Nie Nie is waiting in line behind us. I can't help myself, I have to hug her. And she is just as nice as you would imagine her to be. We talk like we are old friends. Owen is very worried about her. He and Jeffrey ask all the questions they can think of and she answers them. She says it is better that way, for them to ask instead of just to stare. I am glad she thinks so. She assures Owen that when he flies to Oregon for Thanksgiving his plane will not crash. He is relieved. I am a little sad when we are both done checking out and have to say good-bye. She is shiny like Jeffrey with happy eyes. It makes my whole day. Along with the fact that the new smaller jeans were 40% off to boot. It made the torture of the childrens museum almost bearable.