The tags are flying around at the moment, and as I'm really busy and out of ideas, I'm taking every challenge. Lazy blogging, I think it's called, but what the hey. Anyway, 'er over at Almost American tagged me to come up with 6 unimportant things that make me happy. I have to say though that "unimportant" is a very subjective word isn't it? What matters to me (for example a teenager or two hanging a coat up,) may not wind you up so much and therefore might not be in the "important" category. And "unimportant" also begs the question, if it makes you happy then surely it is of some significance, or you wouldn't notice it. Before I get too pedantic (ie. boring) about the whole thing, here they are:
- Nice things in the post/mail. I know it's a lot easier to e-mail than write these days, but almost everything that plops onto the floor is a bill or a piece of junk. The disappointment after going through the pile to discover that you have nothing to show for it is minor I know, but the joy when someone sends you an invitation (which are all becoming E-vites over here), a thank you card or better still, a gift, lasts all day. Perhaps I should just start sending things to myself. By the time it gets to me I'll have forgotten I sent it anyway.
- Not embarrassing my kids. I'm lucky in that my kids all more or less speak to me on a regular basis, but they love to pretend they're embarrassed if they see me at school. "Mom - what are you doing here?" they ask, forgetting the dramatic phone call to bring in a violin or gym shirt, and using a voice that automatically draws attention to their horrific situation. One morning a few weeks ago, I walked past a big room containing my 13 year old and his entire grade. I made quick eye contact with him, stuck my tongue out and that was that. Or that was all we had planned in the way of communication, but two girls near him started whispering to him that his mother was walking past, and before I knew it one of the teachers said "Everyone wave to Mr. Minimal's mom", and they did. Not being the shy type, I put my bag down, raised both hands in the air and waved frantically at them all, which caused great mirth. I thought he was going to kill me when he got home later that day, but apparently everyone thought I was cool, so his school cred is intact!
- staying in control. I know that makes me sound like a Type A control freak, which I'm really not, but I also hate flying around like the proverbial blue-arsed fly. It's May in the US. I know it's May all over the world, but May in the US is a very busy time for anyone remotely connected to an educational establishment. They all finish in the next few weeks, so there are a lot of celebratory things going on, final performances and far too many exams, in the kids' opinions. (In case you didn't catch the significance of the phrase "finish in the next few weeks" - that would be for the summer. For three months. Shoot me now.) Every morning I wake with a sense of dread that one of the three has forgotten to tell me about a teacher gift/papier mache project/class snack that needs to be taken in that morning. The two feet by six feet blackboard in my kitchen is insufficient for the copious notes and activities needed to get through the next few days, and I feel like I'm about to explode. And I DON'T LIKE IT. I know that's not quite telling you what makes me happy, but I had to get it off my chest. I knew you'd understand.
How many's that? Only three? Bugger! I'll need a few days to come up with the rest.