.Reduced to "Ish"

~"I never saw a man who looked with such a wistful eye upon that little tent of blue which prisoners call the sky"~ Oscar Wilde

So the school year started-as they always do. On the first day back...At the sound of the alarm, I sprang joyfully out of my bed..delightfully skipped down the stairs-not even pausing to scream out profanities when my feet found the scattered Littlest Pet Shop abominat toys.(.I swear those big headed things move of their own evil volition.)  Nothing was going to get in the way of my springing and skipping. NOTHING.

  The first day of school is pretty easy for my herd.  The girls are excited to wear their new dresses..Lily wants to see her friends..and Zoe? Zoe just wants to wear her new clothes. The excitement peters out pretty quickly for her-once she has worn all of her new things. (we are in the third week now-and she has already had one personal day) My boys were a different story. Well actually-Oscar got up and ready like he always does (he will get his own school post soon) But Sam? *sigh*  Sam started high school this year..and, like a true almost fifteen year old.. he refused to share my excitement. "Hey! Hey! Hey  Sam!  today's the first day of high school buddy!"    "uh-huh."   "I can not believe I have a kid in high school!"  "yup."  "Are you excited!?"  "Not really." "But Sam? ( I'm dancing all around him like a frantic puppy)  It's HIGH SCHOOL!  You are one of the older kids now!  you get to take some courses you're interested in! You're taking  a real art class!!..He's just looking at me. I mean, I'm hopping and skipping...and he has absolutely no reaction...he's not even giving me his standard slightly bemused "she's one hop away from senior living" look.  So, I threw down the gauntlet... brought out the big guns. He was going to be excited about high school-whether he liked it or not!    "Maybe this year.... you can learn  (gulp) how to drive !" (I don't want to think about it)  Did his eyes just light up? (I got him!)  "I want to drive!...I know exactly the car I am going to get too.!!" (he names some zillion dollar  car)  "Ummm Sam?  You do know that those cars cost money-right?..A lot of money."  "Of course I do. But once I sell my story and comic ideas I will be able to afford it." "Yeahhhh...but until then...you might want to think about driving something different...I mean you are going to have to take driving lessons(from someone who isn't me) and you are going to want to practice (again, with someone who is not me)..and believe me-once you learn-you are going to WANT to drive."  "You have a point."  "You'll probably be asking me to use my car."  " No..no, I won't."  "What?..You'll want to drive but you won't borrow my car?"   "No thank you."   "What do you mean?"   "No offense mama..but you drive a mini-van." *sputter* "Whats wrong with my mini van?"   "Nothing."  " My mini van is cool!  It has a c.d. player-and room for six!..not to mention matching floor mats!!!"  I was indignant!  Indignant over the mini-van that I......secretly imagine is a 65 1/2 Mustang convertible (black with white leather interior).  "Look-It's a "mom-ish kind of car."  *gulp*..."Mom-ish?"  "Yes...but that's o.k. because you're a mom-it suits you." "SUITS ME?!! (no!) I bet you anything that  there will be a day when you long for spacious leg and head room , four door accessibility and maximum cargo space!..mom-ish humph." "Mama?  why is your face all red?"  "Sam,  I'm going to give you some advice...you aren't going to understand it now..but it may save you later...you know how I tell you words that you should never use to describe a person?.."You mean like fat?" "Yes-just like that.  "O.k."  "Never call a woman "Mom-ish"...I mean I love being your mother-I adore it-I adore all of you!..But some words?  They just don't sound as nice as they mean...can you understand that?"  "Of course I can.  I'm in high school now. " "well..if you don't start getting ready for it-you'll miss the bus...and I would have to drive you! mwhahahahahaha!"

I think it is going to be an interesting year.