Last night was frustrating. We had planned on going bowling in the afternoon - the whole fam damily - but Beloved called to confirm their hours and costs, and it turns out that they didn't open until 5:30. No problem - I went to the library and got some work done, Beloved planned an early dinner, the girls hung around at home reading and making sculptures out of frosting and graham crackers (I never said that Beloved was a good influence, did I?).

At 6 p.m., we finally left the house.

At 6:35 p.m., the woman at the counter of the VERY loud and VERY dark bowling alley took our shoe sizes, and as she reached under the counter to get the shoes, she said, "oh, and just to let you know, after 6 p.m., we're 21 and over."

After 6.

I said (being brilliant and all), "It's 6:35." She said, "Yeah, you're right."

So why was she giving us shoes? We had short people with us. Very short people. Who have yet to grow any boobies whatsoever. They can't be mistaken for short 22 year olds. They just can't.

We left. The girls were MOST disappointed. I promised to take them back today - but they continued with the tears, b/c today meant no Beloved.

We soothed them with promises of Pac Man and devouring their aforementioned sculptures, and trudged back home.

We did to back today, though. Just the 3 of us. I had a blast. E had a blast. J was frustrated with her 700 gutter balls, but eventually pulled out of her funk enough to listen to my instructions, which got her considerably more pins in the prone position. But in the end, she lost both games (it would have been hard to beat me, what with my 2 strikes and one spare ... heh heh heh) and turned into a crying, whining, pain in my butt over it.

I don't really have much sympathy for a 9 year old crying b/c she didn't win. She went through that phase when she was 5 or 6. She moved past it. She learned where her strengths and weaknesses were, and lost with as much pride as she won. Where did it go?

I know. It left for the middle of the country ahead of her. They're both a little "off" with the impending transition, and I tried to pull out extra-understanding and extra-hugs. I stopped glowering at her, and she snapped out of it, and by the time we returned to our town on the T, she was happy again, and told Beloved that she lost with no sign of her past tearfulness.

Now we're at the library. Trying to soak in as much of my daily internet requirements as the timer on this damned computer will allow me.

And I am NOT studying. When we go home, the girls are supposed to clean their room, in preparation for Thursday/Friday's departure, and perhaps I'll get some work done then.

I'm sure I won't fail the bar exam, though. Right? I mean, they leave on Friday, and then I have nothing stopping me from studying 20 hours a day. Right? So I'll likely pass? Don't you think?

Tomorrow: Fireworks by the Charles River.

Maybe I'll bring my notecards .....

posted by Zuska @ 3:27 PM

1 Comments:

At Tuesday, July 03, 2007 6:16:00 PM, Lise Johnston said…

You'll be fine and you'll never regret time spent with your family.