Down and out

Got the call over lunch to go pick up my girl at school.  She made it a half day, and then just couldn’t go anymore.  We figured something was wrong this weekend when she got up Saturday morning, ate breakfast, and went back to bed.  She never, ever does that.  Sunday was a lazy day around the house, and while she didn’t quite seem herself, she did seem much improved.  This morning she was nearly 100%, but I think kindergarten just wore her out faster than normal.

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My little view

Saturday night we went to a birthday party for a family friend’s 10-year-old daughter.  Double digits means, apparently, that one is too sophisticated to play with mere children.  At past parties, Zoe was snatched from her parents and sucked into the world of free-spirited play with all the cousins of this large, loving family.  Expecting much the same this time, I took her hand and climbed the steps to the playroom, where two of the girls had hidden from the boring adults.  As soon as we entered the room, I felt the chill as they stopped talking and looked at us.  I ignored it.  “Hi!  Would you guys mind if Zoe played up here with you?”

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Dinner for one

I had no dinner plans tonight. It was heavenly.
Normally I go out with colleagues. This is always very good, in that I get to know people with whom I work. But sometimes, after a long couple days packed with meetings, I just want to eat quietly and maybe enjoy a glass of wine. That rarely happens.
I went to an Italian place right across the street from my hotel. First time there, but won’t be the last. Mmmmm. Yummy.
Back at the hotel, in jammies and in bed. And it’s not even 8:30! Bliss.
Missing my girl and my M like crazy though. Can’t wait to get home tomorrow.

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It’s raining, it’s pouring, the airport is boring

Waiting for my 8:10 to KC. Tried Business Select this time – no security wait and boarding #A5! Also learned to look ahead and find the lane without the damn full-body scanner. I don’t care about the scan…I’m all for safety and security. I’m just sick of being scanned every dang time I fly.
I read an article recently about the airport of the future. There will be three lanes, one for those who have been thoroughly vetted and who are frequent travelers. Those folks won’t be stopped and made to go through all this hassle. The airport of the future can’t come soon enough.
Leaving STL with a clear desk, having stayed up last night to pay and file bills, balance the checkbook, etc. I’m not sure why that makes me feel easier about traveling, but it does. What does not make me feel better is the sobbing from Zozo the night before. Thin little arms encircle my neck and I hear, “Mama! I don’t want you to go to Kansas City!” It’s a verbal knife in the gut. Poor M, he tries so hard to make it better: “Hey! Knuckle-bump! Daddy-Daughter time! Mom’s gonna miss all the fun. We’re gonna have a blast!” At which she sobs harder.
It’s only because Mom is the parent who, after a long, hectic day and faced with the daunting prospect of making dinner, says, “Hey…wouldn’t it be great to have Cheerios for dinner?!” whereas Daddy is the responsible parent who ensures our family eats healthy, balanced meals. Everyone knows Cheerios for dinner is way more fun than a nice piece of salmon with fresh green beans, fruit and yogurt.
This trip to KC is at least blessedly short, as they usually are, and its main purpose is to say goodbye to my French boss. After a decade in the States, he’s being called home to corporate HQ in Libourne. I’ll still work for him, but we all know everything changes when you’re across the ocean versus across the state. He’s adorably French, and a fantastic leader. I will miss him.
Other meetings scheduled up the yingyang, of course. The days will fly by. Pun intended!

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Kindergarten Soccer: Game 1

Well, yesterday we had our first game of the season.  Lots of fun, lots of laughing, and a few boo-boos, one incurred before the game even began when cleats on concrete caused a face-plant and some pretty horrific looking road rash all down the side of a cute little face (not Zozo’s).  After some quiet time in the car with her mom, the little girl manned up and played the entire game.  Rock star.  They all looked so adorable in their uniforms.  The shorts were all way too large, even though they were size “small.”  They were more like soccer skorts, I guess you could say, since they looked like they were wearing skirts.

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Honor through helping

Ten years ago, I worked at the American Red Cross.  I was a measly little marketing specialist, doing my part to help my chapter raise money and awareness so we could help local families impacted by fire and flood, and send out volunteers and supplies to communities hit by natural disasters.  We trained folks in first aid and CPR and how to use an AED.  We helped people be prepared, and even learn how to swim.  Hurricanes and tornadoes and earthquakes were regular occurrences, and I was proud to work for a large, national organization that could quickly spin into action to help others while doing the daily work of making our communities safer.

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Angels and demons

He’s taken to calling her “convict,” which I think is funny in that she’s never even been incarcerated…just, you know, verbally disciplined and now…written up.

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