I had to reschedule dinner with new friends because the house is clean, but not clean by hubby's standards.
G made me so proud at Author's Day yesterday. He was the first reader, and after the group recited their collective poem, his teacher asked him if he was ready.
"Sure," he answered and rose to the challenge.
His story was one he wrote by himself. My six-year-old talking about how he loved playing Wii Fit Plus with his mom and brother, how he particularly liked yoga and how the sun salutation and the push up and side plank are his two favorite things.
He read and wrote it himself, this child who had me so worried academically six months ago.
When the audience of parents, grandparents, siblings and 5th grade buddies thanked him for his story, he smiled and said into the microphone,"You're welcome."
My sunny, self-possessed 6-year-old blew everyone away, particularly the psycho fellow room mom who noted just minutes before in disbelief; "HE plays t-ball?"
"He sure does," I smiled back, wishing her a tall cool glass of Bite Me.
We had a nice afternoon, the boys and I. I picked them up today and ran some errands with them before finishing up with some mini golf, elevator adventures, and dinner--Nic's favorite, green pasta. If he had any idea that I infected his pesto with spinach he'd never eat it again.
Ah well. And evil B is now Nic's friend because apparently the principal issued some sort of ultimatum. Whatever. As long as we head into a quiet end of the school year, I am happy and hopeful.
It's wine o'clock, time to exhale.