The inspection on the car is expired. David brought it to be inspected and I was braced and ready to be told that we needed at least two tires. And I knew we needed a headlight. I had a figure in my head of what it was going to be, and I had done the math in my head and figured that after the car was paid for we would have enough to live on for the next two weeks and even pay a few bills.
David called and said that the tires passed. However, there is a crack in something that apparently is vital to passing inspection, and to replace this cracked thingy majingy, will cost over $400.00. Plus $200.00 for the tires to be rotated, the headlight, and an oil change. David left with a new headlight, and rearranged tires, and the crack remains. So does the expired sticker.
My girls are 8, 6, and 2. At this point in my motherhood journey, there are a few things that I have down. I have mastered the veiled threat. I know exactly which yell my children know is my warning call, and which yell makes their eyes bug out of their heads and makes them listen, quickly. I know which girl likes mustard, which girl hates cheese. Who drinks orange juice. Who despises milk. Never give Charlotte meat with even a speck of fat, or she will deem it greasy, yet watch her down a plate of bacon. Molly loves to be sung to, and Olivia likes to have private talks. Small details that we all know about our children, because they are everything.
Little things become big things to kids, and even the mention of something, even a whisper between David and I, is literally written in stone to them. If it doesn't happen, it is bad news. I have learned at this point that it is best to never tell Molly we are going to go and play with her friend Ki Ki, because if something suddenly prevents that from happening, oh the tears. The writhing on the floor. The carrying on becomes painful to watch. And listen to.
We made the mistake of telling the girls that we were going to go camping this summer. We spoke about it, out loud. I cringed as we did it, almost wanting to snap the speech bubbles around our heads back out of midair, and shove them back in our mouths. But we thought that between now, and then, we could do it and it felt exciting to talk about it. To get them excited. All of us got excited actually.
I was looking at the reservations for the sites the other night, and they are filling. Quickly. And now with the car to figure out how we are going to pay for, putting a down payment for a reservation looks impossible. At least for the next few pay cycles. But the girls don't know this yet.
And then I saw Charlotte's journal. And in it, she wrote all about our summer plans. And how excited she was to go camping. She is counting on it. And I realized, that however it has to happen, it will happen. Cracked thingy magingy, or not. We are going camping.
So if you see a woman resembling my photo pulled over and getting a ticket in the next month or so, that would be me.
David called and said that the tires passed. However, there is a crack in something that apparently is vital to passing inspection, and to replace this cracked thingy majingy, will cost over $400.00. Plus $200.00 for the tires to be rotated, the headlight, and an oil change. David left with a new headlight, and rearranged tires, and the crack remains. So does the expired sticker.
My girls are 8, 6, and 2. At this point in my motherhood journey, there are a few things that I have down. I have mastered the veiled threat. I know exactly which yell my children know is my warning call, and which yell makes their eyes bug out of their heads and makes them listen, quickly. I know which girl likes mustard, which girl hates cheese. Who drinks orange juice. Who despises milk. Never give Charlotte meat with even a speck of fat, or she will deem it greasy, yet watch her down a plate of bacon. Molly loves to be sung to, and Olivia likes to have private talks. Small details that we all know about our children, because they are everything.
Little things become big things to kids, and even the mention of something, even a whisper between David and I, is literally written in stone to them. If it doesn't happen, it is bad news. I have learned at this point that it is best to never tell Molly we are going to go and play with her friend Ki Ki, because if something suddenly prevents that from happening, oh the tears. The writhing on the floor. The carrying on becomes painful to watch. And listen to.
We made the mistake of telling the girls that we were going to go camping this summer. We spoke about it, out loud. I cringed as we did it, almost wanting to snap the speech bubbles around our heads back out of midair, and shove them back in our mouths. But we thought that between now, and then, we could do it and it felt exciting to talk about it. To get them excited. All of us got excited actually.
I was looking at the reservations for the sites the other night, and they are filling. Quickly. And now with the car to figure out how we are going to pay for, putting a down payment for a reservation looks impossible. At least for the next few pay cycles. But the girls don't know this yet.
And then I saw Charlotte's journal. And in it, she wrote all about our summer plans. And how excited she was to go camping. She is counting on it. And I realized, that however it has to happen, it will happen. Cracked thingy magingy, or not. We are going camping.
So if you see a woman resembling my photo pulled over and getting a ticket in the next month or so, that would be me.
Look into camping at the states parks...rates are reasonable!
ReplyDeleteYogi bear is in your future!! and mine too. it'll happen and it'll be great. and everything will be fine. it has to be. it just has to be. and so it will be. (because i said so.)lol
ReplyDeleteThere is Kettletown state park around the corner from me. Oxford or Southbury CT....
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