Dawn Is Me

Enough of that whiney stuff.

I can see that the school year will proceed according to schedule, with no real surprises and no startling new behaviors on the part of my children.

Three days into the school and Ricky wins this year’s award for most airheaded child of the Baker clan, hands down. Clearly, he hasn’t changed much over the years.

This child of mine, who once left his shoes in a tree (he’s never going to live that down), called me from school on Thursday morning (before homeroom had started) to tell me that he’d left home, headed for school, without his school bag.

As I have said repeatedly, my children are lucky that their mother has a sense of humor. Dutiful me climbed into the car and ferried the backpack to the middle school.

Kimmie seems to have undergone a major transition of some sort. Her birthday was almost ten days ago and it seems that she didn’t just turn 15. Seems she really turned fifteen! if you see what I mean (which you probably don’t).

I smell a breakthrough of some sort coming. Stay tuned.

Headline-grabbing Gina, not content with simply heading off to embark on her junior year at Ithaca (which is fairly exciting all by itself), is currently preoccupied with trying to not catch the H1N1 virus, aka swine flu.

See? I told you she’s smart.

Evidently, it’s all over the place on Cornell’s campus (you know those Ivies, they don’t do anything halfway) but there are only around 20 cases across town at Ithaca. We’ll hope it stays that way.

Who needs television? If I really want excitement, all I have to do is watch my kids.

(Three months smoke free! Yay, me!)

So, I was thinking about Ricky recently and I was thinking that I should get a tee shirt made for him with that famous and appropriate quotation from Linus van Pelt:

So far, he does not appear to have been seriously traumatized, no matter what they do to him.

I’m reminded of a recent incident when Ricky was coming into the house only to be intercepted by Kimmie and Gina.

Kimmie eyed him closely. “You’re taller,” she said severely.

Gina: “He is?”

Kimmie: “Here, see, look.” [turns him to face her and plants his face between her boobs] “See, he’s getting too tall to lift and separate.”

Gina: “Let me see.” [turns him to face her and plants his face between her boobs] “Oh, hey, you’re right.”

Parenthetically, it has always been interesting to me how siblings have such a freewheeling tactile intimacy; they can touch each other in ways that nobody else on the planet can.

That said, if the boy doesn’t grow up to be a serial killer, it won’t be his sisters that society has to thank for it.

Occasionally, though, they decide to be nice to him.

Last weekend, Ricky had a baseball game. It was a good game for him; he actually hit the ball. In fact, he batted in two runs with that hit and, by the time he got home, he was beside himself with pride in his accomplishment.

Kimmie told me a couple of days later that she had been tempted to take the wind out of his sails with a vengeance. “I was gonna say something like, ‘yeah, enjoy it, you’ll never be able to do it again’ but I decided I didn’t feel like ruining his life that day,” is what she told me.

So she’s … what … saving ruining his life for some other time when she’s more in the mood for it?

Poor Ricky.

He may yet have a future as a serial killer ahead of him …

This is my kitchen wall.

Somehow, it fits my household, and my family, perfectly.

Who says innovation is the sole province of white-coated dudes in labs that work for universities and cutting-edge businesses?

Innovation can happen in the kitchen with the help of hair appliances, gloves and cardboard.