Things are moving along like normal.
Peanut is into everything, making huge messes, and generally being a one girl wrecking crew. She is just too cute, though.
My four year old son started preschool. It's run by a friend and there are seven kids in the class. He's really enjoying himself and it's helping us all out at home. He was so bored. He wanted so badly to play with other kids, but we could never get anyone to come over. Now he sees his friends a few times a week, is learning some fun things and just enjoying being out.
My daughter is caught up in a school fund raiser. The fund raiser is, they say, for the American Heart Association. She wants to help the AHA, but we keep trying to tell her that most of the money from the fund raiser won't go to the AHA. She is insisting on putting her own pennies into the envelope. I'm so torn. I want her to help others, but I don't like school fund raisers. So much of the money goes toward the promotional company and all the little prizes they give out. Very little will go to the charity and if any of this is for the school, the charity will have to split what money there is with the school. I would rather donate directly to the school or the charity. I really don't like fund raisers and I hate how they play on the emotions and innocence of kids and then tempt them with prizes. I can get the same prize at the Dollar Tree for a dollar. Anyway, she has defied her Dad and my wishes not to put her own money in the fund raiser and has put her coins into the envelope and sealed it. I don't know what to do.
The older boys are not liking school. Good thing spring break is in two weeks.
I'm dealing with my own personal issues. I'm so tired of cleaning up toys and picking up laundry off the floor. I really hate the way my fingernails feel on these tile floors and yet they are constantly scraping the floor because I'm constantly picking up everything off the floor. We are going to have to move at the end of this year because I won't beable to deal with the feel of the floor anymore. It's really making my skin crawl and yet, there is nothing I can do. Things have to get picked up off the floor and I seem to be the only one in the house willing to do it. Ug, just thinking about my fingernails touching this floor is giving my skin the creepy-crawlies. I'm deffiantly developing a .... ?.... what is it called when you can't stand the way something feels? I'm becoming that way with my house floor.