Pictured above is my landscape guy Mark and his guys grading the soil for Tall Fescue Seed in our front lawn. We're going for the soccer field look. [Also pictured is the Goochmobile. When he takes me on dates we open the sun roof--or moon roof, as it were.] You can see--or rather--you can't see where the fourth willow oak used to stand. They successfully made her disappear. They brought in two loads of mid-grade soil, smoothed out probably a quarter acre and had the seeds scattered, fertilized, and covered in straw in a matter of hours. It was a peaceful operation and quiet, too. Enviably so.
In other news, Seth declares each morning that "school is superfluous" (not his words exactly) and asserts his distaste for his education by refusing all of my suggestions for breakfast. And I don't offer a meager menu. Hazel shouted, "You're not my mom!", when I put her on "the step" for slamming the swinging door between the breakfast area and the dining area in Avery's face. Lucy broke down this morning because Seth was being stingy with his Halloween candy which is actually a very large collection of both his and her stash. They foolishly combined them. We made hasty plans post-school to re-divide the junk. As we made the final push this morning to scramble book bags and babes into the car, Avery suddenly had an opinion on footwear and flung herself back when I chose the black leather mary janes with a cute little bee on them--hitting her head on the wood floor.
Nearly a week into November, is it any wonder I still feel witchy? Such the bad guy. I don't like being the bad guy, but no one else is up for the position. Dr. Gooch is the fun guy.
Yesterday, all four rascals and I arrived home after picking up Seth from school. Avery's diaper had leaked through to her pants and carseat so I set her in a warm bath and began picking up the family room. I noticed the carpet needed some vacuum love. After that I went to dry and dress the baby and found she had company: three solid logs beginning to disintegrate in the water.
Dr. Gooch came home with the retort, "You love being a mom!", just in time to catch me sanitizing the tub. I did what any good mom would do, after such a scene, I fled it with only my shuffle and bottle of water. As I got in the car, anticipating a nice crisp Autumn run on the trail, I was suddenly transformed from witch to rock star. The children crowded the driver's side door clambering for me to roll down the window for a kiss. Tears from Lucy, sobbing that she would miss me "so much". The cutest little baby wave (you know, the finger squeeze sort) from Avery and loud shouts of "I LOVE YOU!" from the same gal who would disown me as her mother in the near future.
What in the world? Sometimes I wish raising rascals was more like seeding a lawn.