9:32 a.m.

As I sit to write this, it is 9:32 a.m. I awoke at approximately 8:00 this morning, and have therefore been awake for 92 minutes.

On August 1st, I had sinus surgery. I'd taken the kids to my mother's the day before and she returned them to me yesterday. As a result, I think it's safe to say I've done more in the last 92 minutes than in the previous 168 hours.

For example: I awoke to the sound of Melody in the kitchen. She poured her own cereal and milk, brought them to the coffee table and then brought me coffee. (Amazing child, yes? You know you are all jealous.) In the next 30 minutes, I explained to her genetic traits, how geography and climate relate to skin color, how trade routes led to exploring then led to intermarrying amongst what had previously been isolated pocket cultures.

At this point, I broke out the pen and paper and taught my eight-year-old how to use a Punnett Square to diagram dominant and recessive genes, then explained about the 23 chromosomes and how you end up with the traits you have.

Which led to nature vs. nurture.

Then the other two woke up, we all got dressed and took off to take the girls to their Cheer Clinic at school. I could not see through the sap on the windshield and so I stopped on the way at a coin operated car wash. I could not do a drive through because of the window that is stuck halfway down. It's a good thing Melody brought me that coffee, because I was *that* close to going through the drive-thru. That could have been soggy.

The next few miles were spent explaining to Charlie that he could not go to Cheer Camp, as he is not a 3rd, 4th or 5th grade girl student on that particular elementary school campus, but that in high school he would get his chance.

After dropping them off, Charlie and I had a lovely discussion of public vs. private property and insurance liabilities. As we're discussing why he can't just go play on that particular playground because we lack permission from the owner and his property insurance just wouldn't cover any injuries, he asks me quite the question.

"Mommy, if I'm playing on that playground and my head gets broke open like a pinata, what if no one likes the candies that fall out of my head because they are too spicy and too sour?"

For the first time all morning, I didn't have an answer for that one. I think I need a second cup of coffee first. 


Only Melody

A few weeks ago, we were all in The Betty, driving to church.

 I don't think I've introduced you to The Betty, Dowlan's car. It's a 12-year-old white Buick that we bought from Granny. On the drive home from put hissing, she hit 30,000 miles. Since life is in my head is a perpetually word association game, follow along.  

Granny car 
White car 
Old White people 
Betty White The Betty 

Are you with me? 

Okay,so it's wednesday afternoon and the son is getting low in the sky, with rays shining boldly through the side windows. Melody starts making shadow puppets. 

Think of the shadow puppets you made at age eight: 

 Not Melody. From the backseat, I hear, "look! It's Governor GoodHair!" 

Melody has made a Rick Perry shadow puppet. I'm laughing so hard that steering has become a challenge, so she defends herself with"but it has really good hair!" 

At the next light, I glance at the back of the passenger seat, where her maneuvered fists have left the shadow of a head with perfectly coiffed hair and a handsome chin. 

 That's my girl!