You haven’t heard much from me as of late. I could try to come up with a dozen excuses as to why this is the case, but, I won’t. You just haven’t heard from me.
It is perfectly acceptable to blame it on the cicadas, if you wish. I hate those damn things! Oh, have I said that before?
It’s summer. The boys are now out of school. I am back in school, so to speak, teaching two classes this term. Ant has activities planned for the next few weeks, but K does not. And we’re both okay with that. I don’t want him running around as much as he did this past academic year, and my bet is that—despite his protests—he doesn’t want to either.
I told him on Saturday that there is an importance in doing nothing. And then I showed him with my behavior. This past weekend we watched TV, we napped, we ate slightly-less-than-healthy food and read. We played games and talked about random things. We thought about things.
We did not go places, do things, run errands, clean house or do laundry. We strove to be bored. We reached our goal, and amazingly enough, no one complained. Not one single whine.
Granted, K will invariably do things this summer, and I bet it starts soon (he inherited the “Doesn’t sit well” gene), but the main goal was for him to actually find what he wants to do. In order to do that, one has to think. In order to think, one has to sit quietly, just for a bit.
If I expect the kids to learn this then I have to show them that I am capable of it as well. So, I’m working on that, amongst other things.
I am spending time striving towards boredom.
In the interim, please enjoy the actual test message conversation between my husband, my son and myself this afternoon. All of this—yeah, it did happen.
J: Oh, that was the funniest thing ever!
Me: What are you talking about?
J: We just got home from the library. K was attacked by the cicadas, he threw the books into the air, and I began laughing as they fell to the ground. Then he picked up the books and we went inside, just to find out that K still had one on him! Sophie didn’t even see it!
I want to break in here and tell you that my dog hates these creatures. She tried to eat one two days ago (apparently she overheard me tell J that my co-worker’s dogs have decided they no longer require food from humans during cicada season), got as far as licking it, and then threw up. Serious. Heaving.
J, cont.: The only way I knew it was in here was that I could hear it screeching. K started screaming, “Get it off! Get it off!” There was lots of cursing. It was great.
J, even more: We are being overrun by cicadas! They are trying to get in the house! We love you, but I don’t think we are going to make it!
K: They are seeping into the house through the cracks! We are not going to make it another hour! You’re going to have to make dinner yoursellllllffffff! Arrrrggggghhhhh!
J: Thank goodness Sophie is eating them all! Go, Sophie, go! Oh no! She is getting full, just like that lazy squirrel at your work, oh no!
Me: Unless they fly up your pants like that one did to me after work yesterday, you have no room to complain, guys.
K: It was in my shirt, Mom. It was down the back of my shirt!
My dad brought one home in his suitcase when he was working construction, must have been late 80's. We'd never seen anything like it in SW Wyoming.
ReplyDeleteThey'll die soon, right? Or hibernate, or whatever it is they do?
I think we only have three to four weeks left of their presence. I'm slightly optimistic. Slightly.
ReplyDelete