Good News, Bad News

The good news is, that I made 3 out of 3 buses in the last 2 days. This morning, after we left Dawson at the corner, Dylan looked up at me, and said, "You did great, Mom, that's two in a row." then he stuck his little fist into the air, so we could do "knuckles." I reminded him, that he had also made the bus on time yesterday, so technically, I had made 3 buses in a row. I wasn't about to let him short change me on my triumphs. He apologized and then said, "Go Linsey, it's your birthday. Go Linsey, it's your birthday." He totally gets me.


There's bad news though, I think I may not be as hip and with it, as I thought. Yesterday, my Mom, who was visiting, walked up the street with us to the bus stop. Dawson walked about 5 feet ahead of the rest of us, and when we reached the corner, he said, "'K, bye, love you." I told him we would walk the rest of the way up the street with him, and he politely, but firmly declined. I laughed about it with my Mom, but secretly blamed her, you know, the "Grandma at the bus stop" thing, *eyeroll*. Anyway this morning, as we walked up the road, I saw Daws start to pick up the pace as we reached the corner, and sure enough, he spun around and gave me the shrug off. I got the same, "K, bye, love you!" I responded with an equally polite, yet firm, "Uh, Hay-ell no." He reassured me, that he just wanted to walk by himself like the big kids, but Dave said, he thinks Dawson might be getting some flack on the bus about his crazy mother that honks the horn and chases the bus in her husband's pajamas. As I sat there watching him skip up the street I couldn't decide which is worse, being lame, or my little boy growing up. At least, I am certain that I will always be cooler than Dave.

I think Emma is adjusting pretty well. I've noticed that she is compensating her loneliness for her brothers, with accessories, but with the amount of hand-me-downs we get, it is cheap, and non self-destructive at this point. She always has a purse on her shoulder, but recently my Mom gave her an enormous black Hobo bag. Thanks again Mom,*eyeroll*. Right before I got in line to check-out at the store the other day, I noticed the bulge of the purse was bigger than ever. I figured I had better take inventory and make sure that I didn't have a little shop lifter on my hands. I may have overreacted a tad, since she really only had the bare necessities, like her two stuffed moose, a stuffed cat, a plastic dinosaur, our cordless phone from home, Dave's tape measure, 5 packages of fruit snacks, a half eaten (and browning) apple, chapsticks, fingernail polish, a fork, her usual purse, a dollar, and the blood-stained tooth that Dawson knocked out the other day. At least she hadn't lifted anything at the store, but I am still trying to figure out how she got the tooth back from the Fairy.

She has been pretty insistent on wearing her ballerina outfit everyday. The only time we get away with regular clothes is when her get-up is in the washer. If it was only the leotard and tutu, I could deal, but her ensemble is not complete until she is wearing multiple tutus, her sunglasses, Dylan's Spiderman hat, her butterfly wings, high heeled wedges, and of course, the purse. It really is a look that few people can carry off, but she has the attitude, and struts around saying, "Boom boom pow, chickens jackin' my style" and it works for now.