Busy, busy

I'm posting here that I intend to post more over the next couple of weeks. The kids will be off visiting again. It is always my intent to write a bunch here while they're gone and then, somehow, between Q's upset at my having made his sibs disappear ("Bad mommy, you must pay -- wait, am I next? 'Fess up, lady, WHAT DID YOU DO WITH THEM!?") which translates to lots of extra work, and my sudden lack of focus because the big kids have disappeared, I just can't seem to stomach it.

I'm resolving that this time will be different.

I have loads to do offline that may or may not get done, depending on the whims and wiles of the Q, but here's my plan for the blog: to write. At least every other day. Perhaps I'll even get around to sharing some pictures. (Don't choke. Swallow. Need a little pat on the back? There, there. You okay now?)

I've been wanting to write about first grade, since we're embarking on the last neurotypical first-grade year that this household will see. Q's been busy in therapy and there's much to share about him. I've had some further thoughts on my P.O.U.S.'s (Posts of Unusual Size), so I'll try to expand on some of those.

But for now, I've got packing and more laundry to do for the punkins. Have I mentioned how I'd rather watch my heart be diced up on a platter than send them away? I'm sure they'll enjoy themselves. (Gulp.) And let's look at it this way: it's an opportunity for me to put things away and have them stay where they've been put. That part is very, very strange. (Insert Twilight Zone theme.)

Opportunities for tidiness, while lovely and all, are insufficient. I guess I'd rather have the mess; as long as it brings the living, breathing entropy machines with it. Tra la la.

More, she promises, later.