I am not feeling at home here on the new blog. At our house, we refer to this particular feeling as “not knowing where the toothbrushes are.” The phrase comes from when Paul and I had just moved to a new state and town, and we discovered we’d left our toothbrushes behind at the last motel. We went to a drug store to buy some replacements, and I started crying in the store because I couldn’t find the toothbrush aisle—and not being able to find something so normal and simple seemed to symbolize all the new things we were going to have to figure out. I like things to be FAMILIAR.
The only way to make this familiar is to keep using it, though, so here I am. Let’s think of something to talk about. Rob got his braces off and is signing up for high school stuff for next year. William got several C’s on his report card and seems to have lost his trumpet (I say “seems” because he also lost his new expensive down winter coat, and then it turned up two weeks after I’d given up all hope). Elizabeth went to her first sleepover and it went great. Edward has been put in a weekly lunchtime group with the school counselor, and when I saw him at a birthday party with his peers I felt unpleasantly sure that it was a very good idea. Henry has got to be enrolled in something this summer or I’m not going to make it. I think I got my first grey hair, but maybe it was just one that got extra bleached by highlighting conditioner. I did our taxes with tax software today, but it’s saying they can’t be filed yet because the forms haven’t been updated yet, even though the website says all forms are now available. I still can’t get my profile to show up at upper right where it’s supposed to. I took down a curtain we put up in the kitchen when we moved into this house, and I laundered it and it completely fell apart.
Also, I bought myself a Webkinz. Elizabeth has one, as did Rob and William before her, and it looked like fun, and I kept being jealous that she was getting to choose decor and clothes and so forth, and so in an impulsive mood I bought one for myself. I have not regretted it. It’s fun. I got the fox, but he was $9 when I bought him, not $20 as he appears to be now. If you’re not picky about the type of animal, you can get one for way cheaper (around $5 at time of typing: golden retriever, moose, Siamese cat, lamb, pig, frog, polar bear, and about a million others)—and the animal itself isn’t really the point, the point is the games and decorating, and the novelty of buying a toy for oneself at such an advanced age. (Plus, the children were impressed.)