64

I had an appointment with my nutritionist yesterday, and because (1) she is in Irvine and (2) this is southern California and (3) I have no sense of direction, I was out of the house for several hours. Since I don’t listen to radio that much (I prefer to beg my loadie mixed CDs to work in my slowly dying factory stereo system) I didn’t hear about Boston until I got home. And here we go again. (It’s why I didn’t respond to comments yesterday. I got caught up in the news and then I just felt weird.)

I have nothing to say about the Boston tragedy that is any more profound than what you are thinking. I have no parenting tips. No breathing exercises. No expert opinion on the broken psyche of perpetrators. (But plenty of other people do!) I do have a video I took of Nicholas during spring break, one that I had no intention of sharing because it’s just him singing 64 by the Beatles. It’s cute, but nothing special. No hip clothes, no fancy camera angles. He had a cold and I was really sick–you can tell both at various points during the video. Nico finished with a flourish and scandalized Mikey with his exuberance. That’s probably the part I enjoyed most.

It’s Tuesday. The Mister comes home from an out of state business meeting, one of the goldfish is slowly dying, I’m doing “breakfast with mommy” at the school, and Mikey has baseball. I’m grateful for ordinary.

Update: G.I.Joe the goldfish swam on to smoother waters some time during the night and holy mackerel were the boys hysterical this morning! They calmed down after a bit, thank goodness, and then Nico started campaigning for G.I.Joe 2.0.