we've been a bit under the weather at our house: a runny nose for the babe and sore throats for him and her.
Today my other symptom included a brain that was stuck in sleep mode.
This morning around 8:30 AM Janie's vision therapist called to let us know that the preschool we were touring this morning would be expecting us at 10:15. Jason fell back into bed and was soon snoozing away. I laid there for a few minutes and then stumbled to the computer to Google-map the trip. I planned our morning out in my mind, when we would need get ready, leave, etc. I checked my email and other computerly business, then went downstairs for some spiritual nourishment. When I could hear that Janie was up I carried her into our room to wake Jason.
"I Google-mapped the trip." I explained to him. "It takes 30 minutes to get there. I figure if we are ready to leave at 10:30 we will get there by..."
...10:15...?
I suddenly realized in dumb surprise that while I knew she said 10:15 my brain was somehow figuring in an extra hour. The current time was 9:30! We threw on some clothes, horked down breakfast, fed and dressed Janie and made it out the door around... 9:50.
As we rushed into the school they were waiting for us. My brain was still not functioning. When they asked me if I wanted to let Janie get down and play in the classroom, I explained stupidly, "Oh, she can't walk." In the next moment I realized that they knew this. We were in a special education school, for crying out loud! Many of the kids there were not able to walk. They kept asking me if I had any questions and for the life of me I couldn't think of more than one or two. Stored in my memory files were images of myself as a teacher, talking to frazzled parents with wild-eyed looks like they were in way over their heads.
I now looked like one of those parents.
I wanted to sit in the ball pit with Janie and delete myself.
And then tonight. I was singing while I was getting Janie ready for bed. After a few minutes I realized that I was singing the same two lines over and over.
Everybody knows a turkey and some mistletoe help to make the season bright. Yuletide carols being sung by a choir and folks dressed up like Eskimos. Everybody knows a turkey and some mistletoe...
oh. dear.
As we rushed into the school they were waiting for us. My brain was still not functioning. When they asked me if I wanted to let Janie get down and play in the classroom, I explained stupidly, "Oh, she can't walk." In the next moment I realized that they knew this. We were in a special education school, for crying out loud! Many of the kids there were not able to walk. They kept asking me if I had any questions and for the life of me I couldn't think of more than one or two. Stored in my memory files were images of myself as a teacher, talking to frazzled parents with wild-eyed looks like they were in way over their heads.
I now looked like one of those parents.
I wanted to sit in the ball pit with Janie and delete myself.
And then tonight. I was singing while I was getting Janie ready for bed. After a few minutes I realized that I was singing the same two lines over and over.
Everybody knows a turkey and some mistletoe help to make the season bright. Yuletide carols being sung by a choir and folks dressed up like Eskimos. Everybody knows a turkey and some mistletoe...
::ERROR::ERROR::ERROR::
oh. dear.
Umm. CTRL ALT DELETE, please?
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