I just finished my new chore and school schedule when my friend told me about a new co-op on the Southside.  Blowing a whole morning on gym & rocket classes doesn't seem worth it, but my kids  love being out.  So I ponder.

The children constantly interrupted my chore training today.  They needed the box of beans, or help plugging in the hose.  Read me this?  Hold that? Find that?  Look at this?  Bandaid? Push on swing?  In between the half mill of questions and chore bootcamp, I removed a giant rotted medicine cabinet and installed the new mirror.  (Only a little spackling required.)  The gift was not the mirror, Chad gave me a sacrifice of preference.  I felt loved. In the midst of the cacophony was this:


I told Aziza that "I am going to run the dishwasher."
She replied, "I want to go running in the van with you, too Mom."
"No, I'm not going to workout!" I explained.
When Dad appeared, she proudly told him her new phrase, "Mom is running the dishwasher."
He missed the meaning there but
she impressed me.