On Monday, J and I had a long discussion about his snow boots. It was a rather one-sided discussion, and it seemed to go well until Tuesday morning. In spite of his tacit agreement about the beloved snow boots going into hibernation until the next time it snows (which, hopefully, won’t be until a month that starts with D,) J requested the boots for school.
We went back and forth, and I relented. Was this a chicken shit move? Probably, but I figured a Tuesday is never a good day to start anything, and I then told J that he had Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday and Friday to wear the boots. On Friday, as soon as he arrived from school, the boots were going into storage. We shook on it, and I’ve been reminding him of when the boots are bye-bye since then. This morning, without much ceremony, I reminded him that today’s the day…
I am hoping today’s the day. I admit I’m not too positive that this will work, but I’m going to try my best to achieve this goal. Why can’t I be sure? Well, basically it’s because I’ve learned to pick my battles, especially when we’re still in the first month of reducing medication. I think this transition will become easier once we take out the shorts he wears in warmer weather, and that has been sketchy so far; temperatures in the mornings have been dipping to an uncomfortable level, and I think it’s easier to peel off a jacket (or two) when he arrives from school, than to carry a blanket and a dog sled to bring him home. (No, it hasn’t been as bad as all that, but I also know that J would play it to the hilt with the drama if the day turned out colder than expected by three o’clock.)
We are slowly drifting into warmer weather, sunnier days, earlier sunrises and later sunsets. J likes this. He likes walking to the gym while the sun is still out, and coming home with plenty of time to take his shower and have dinner before the sun sets. It won’t be long now before he insists on sitting outside after dinner, taking in the increasingly green view that he commands from there.
A trip to the grocery store last weekend jarred us massively. Add to that the fact that it also depleted our resources more than we expected, and the garden becomes an imperative. At this point (and considering the price of any kind of meat,) we’d keep chickens, ducks, goats, a pig, and a cow if we could. Since we can’t really do any of that (the Home Owners’ Association frowns on urban poultry and such,) we have to make a good go of vegetables, herbs and any bee-attracting plants. Our lettuce, spinach and mesclun are making good progress, and it’s time to start transplanting our cucumbers, chard, and so forth. I have some tomato plants heading this way from a grower that sells them online, and I’m putting a new hybrid variety of corn intended for containers that I’m putting down today (this will also disguise the rather bulky A/C unit the builder opted to place on the deck.)
Making waffles and freezing them individually has worked quite well. Yesterday I had to make more, but it does save money if we do that, and the waffles are fresher, healthier, and bigger than the ones we get at the store. The store-bought waffles come packaged in such a way that they easily get freezer-burned once the box has been opened, and no amount of syrup brings them back to life. Believe me, the kids have TRIED! With the home-made waffles, once they toast them using the FROZEN setting in the toaster, very little syrup goes a very long way. The waffle iron (which we’d been on the fence about for weeks!) turned out to be a very good investment. We have an assortment of triple-berry, chocolate chip, and banana waffles to choose from, and this makes the morning rush much easier, and much more delicious.
J continues to be happy with what he is fed. I hardly have any cheese in the fridge because I hardly need any cheese to feed him. Making his “mac and cheese” with veggie broth, pureed pumpkin and less than two ounces of whatever cheese he chooses is satisfactory to him. He has also learned that he, too, can spelunk through the fridge for whatever leftover chicken, beef or pork there is from the previous night. Instead of leaving only enough for Dada’s and TGG’s take-to-work lunches, they now leave a container with leftovers for J. He feels like he’s part of some secret society with a very cool members-only handshake.
J enjoys TGG’s company. He looks forward to the gym because it’s TGG who goes with him. I can understand this, and I encourage it because if going to the gym with his cool older brother motivates him to show off and walk two miles on the treadmill, it’s all good. When I go with J, and it’s just the two of us, he has that “oh, crap…I’m with my MOM!” look on his face. That there are two cute teenage girls who either leave as J and TGG are arriving, or show up in the middle of their workout isn’t hurting either.
Yes, we are easing into new ways of doing things because the weather, once more, seems new and invigorating and surprising. The joy of watching a seed sprout is again an everyday treat. J looks through the bowls where I keep the packets of seeds, and walks around the containers we’ve yet to fill, and I know he’s starting to relish the idea of “outside,” even if it comes attached to the idea of “no school.”
April is winding down. TGG’s birthday is a week away. It all gets warmer, sunnier, more outdoorsy from there…
The boots MUST go! The boots WILL go! And then the down-jacket…for sure!