Spring Forward

Spring forward into doom. Or that is how this morning went. Blame it on the time change. Blame it on fear, but this morning I ever so accidentally called my seven year old son "an idiot." I watched the words flow out of my mouth and hang there in a word balloon. The back story was a morning filled with bickering and arguing. We had just picked up Gracie the family dog Sunday night from my dad, and everyone wanted to hold the leash. Fiona was also complaining that we weren't going the route of her liking so when we turned the corner to appease her, Gracie sees another dog tied up in a driveway and she bolts over to get a sniff, Myles dropping the leash in the process. And that's when it happened.  The dog was a pit bull. Not that there's anything wrong with that. But I had had an earlier encounter with this dog unleashed in which he charged at Fiona and I walking home one day. The charge was a bluff, and he ended up just checking out some bushes nearby, but still, I had painted many a harrowing scene with things going differently. I could not remember.  Do you play dead when a dog attacks you? Or do you wave a big stick and roar like a bear? So as idiot left my mouth, what I really meant was that I was the idiot to let Fiona decided which way we walked and to let Myles hold the leash on a street where I knew there was a ferocious dog. As the shock of my name calling echoed in my mind beside the bloody images of a dog fight that I was unable to prevent, (I did know from Henry Huggins and Ribsy that a water hose can work to separate snarling dogs. Beverly Cleary has taught me so much) the dog turned out to be sweet, and friendly, and mildly arthritic. Poor thing. So after my lecture, on how bad that scene could have been. I gathered up my courage to tell Myles that I was sorry for calling him an idiot and that I was just really scared. He accepted my apology like a champ. Replay, after I called him an idiot he quickly retorted in the midst of it all, "I am not an idiot!" You can't get him down easily. In fact maybe I did him a favor. Maybe I have given him an obstacle to overcome. Maybe he will decide to change the world. I hope. The more likely scenario is that he will start calling Fiona that. Steps backward hurt.  I am hoping some butter, flour, and sugar will get things back on track. Baking band-aids I'm really good at.

Victory occured on March 8, 2013 when Myles and I finished The Fellowship of the Ring.  I fought through many nights of, "But I want to read with Daddy!!"  Can't you see we are bonding here! As a result, we grew to love that band of brothers.  Sam Gamgee made us laugh countless times, and Gimli is our bud. Regret: I really wish I had not had Elijah Wood's high pitched scream in my head while reading this. 

In other news I found a poetry book to match my yarn. Beautiful. My awesome neighbor is teaching me to knit. The European way. When you see those colors do you think Italian children? That's what I am going for atleast. Hey, we have a Sicilian great grandfather so its not all a show!


Maura O'Brien said...

I blame the whole month of February (and the beginning of March). I'm right there with you!! I was telling friends this weekend about how wonderful your blog is--so when you're done with baking band aids, keep posting!! It's such a treat!

emswell said...

Thank you so much Maura :) you are too kind.