I caught my imp trying to sound out a word, last week. When he noticed I was there, he quit trying, gave me a sly little sideways smile, put the book down, and went running down the hall to bounce off the master bedroom door. No, I haven't taught him that.
I need to start actively teaching both of them. I was planning on starting formal home-schooling within the next two years, when the imp would be starting Kindergarten anyway (though, we'd be skipping that, since he already knows the material).
I don't know exactly what we're going to be doing with the kids this coming Wednesday when we need to be ripping the last of the carpet out of that back room. The pixie doesn't like being left at Granny's, and the imp hasn't seemed to like being left places lately, either. I'm trying to get my family to come here instead, but I'm not sure if that's going to work. They're kind of almost professional victims, and don't like doing things that are even slightly inconvenient to them (despite our being willing to actually go get them). "Oh, I'm not sure...you know how hard it is for me to watch them here, and you just have so much dust, and you know my breathing problems. Oh, no, don't ask your sister--you know she has problems, too."
I love my family. I really do. I just can't stand the excuses and whining and complaining. They're worse than my kids.
We've got set up with a plumber to replace our bathtub in the hall bathroom. The one that's there is a builder's tub--the tub and shower walls are all one piece, and is going to have to be cut in half before it can be removed. No, it can't be repaired. We asked. We thought that would be less trouble than complete replacement. That work is supposed to start Monday, and will probably take two or three days. Fun, fun!
Sometime this spring, I hope to get the kitchen remodeled, too. I hate having to drag the dishwasher out of its cubby and hook it up to do dishes. Makes me less likely to actually do them.
Writing is...progressing. Slowly. The carpet tear-out this past week played absolute hell with my allergies, and I'm only just now getting over the worst of the effects. I'm sure next week won't be any better, but that ought to be the last of it.
I'm facing a metric shit-ton of grading this weekend. No, my students don't have a major essay due--they've got what the course creator terms a "micro essay"--which I would call an essay, especially since I'm supposed to give it the same attention as a major essay. I swear, the bint they hired to design the course doesn't have much more than half-melted cotton candy between her ears.
4 minutes ago