Wow, a post a week, huh? This is what happens when everyone in the house has been felled by the justavirus of doom. First it was Ryan, that was three weeks ago, he's still not 100%. I've been coughing and unable to hear out of my right ear since last Friday night (although, I did take James's nose spray the other night and seem to have fixed the sinus problem for now, which is a huge improvement to my quality of life, I must say).
And I know I don't need to remind you the amount of laundry we generate. It defies the laws of thermodynamics. That's what I did today. Laundry, not thermodynamics. Sadly.
James's justavirus turned into an ear infection and Mary's turned into some kind of weird amnesia that she was once able to sleep like a human being. Ryan is in there with her now because in a moment of desperation I drank some of the kids' cough syrup and I'm hoping to give it another hour before I feed her. Not that a snuggle with me would be all that soothing because as I mentioned before, the COUGHING.
But in the midst of all that (and my semester starting because WHY NOT), we have been doing a project that started out to help Charlie most of all when he was struggling near the end of last semester. Instead of just being sad and grouchy all the time, I decided to force the family to be nice to each other and then document those nice acts on a piece of poster board I hung in the kitchen labeled "1000 Acts of Kindness." The original (unrealistic) goal was to get to a thousand during Advent and then we would go do something special as a family.
Yesterday morning we were at ninety six and we told the kids that if we got to a hundred that day that we would go out for ice cream. And they EXPLODED WITH KINDNESS. Charlie recorded the last item on the poster during dinner and we were off to Orange Leaf.
Ryan read all one hundred acts while we ate. Because our family size doesn't do enough to draw attention to us in public.
And then we took a really nerdy family picture with our poster.
And then this morning Charlie and Wes had a kicking fight in the bread aisle of our store and I almost had to walk out of the store empty handed to make a point. MULTIPLE PEOPLE took me aside and told me in gentle tones, "I had four boys. They're all grown up now. I survived and so will you." My favorite was the woman who said "I had three boys" and when I smiled politely and said "Oh, how nic--" she cut me off and said "And then I got my tubes tied." Then when it was time to pay Mary got her leg stuck in the Ergo somehow and it was so wedged in there she had red marks on her calf for the rest of the afternoon. And also the screaming. So much screaming! So it was a really good trip to the store. Time to start on the second hundred, is what I'm saying.