Feeling like me

It is restorative to my soul to do things that feel like me.

Pukkis feel like me.  I take a picture of these guys every year and they don't change but I still photograph them because I love them.

I don't know why I love goats so much.  I don't think I have any interest in real live goats but these guys have my heart.

So does the color red.

At school the other third grade teachers and I color code things.  I'm red, Janelle is yellow and Kate is green.  The three colors litter our shared google drive.

Christmas is a perfect time to haul out the red.  My favorite is a mostly neutral backdrop with hits of bright red.

I also love that Adam and Mark accommodate my whims.  They climb the ladders and patiently move things to the right, more, more, more...too far, go back.  Right there.  Wait.  No, over to the left more.  Now to the right.

They just stoically comply.

Decorating for Christmas feels like me.

Spending Saturdays with Adam feels like me.  (I told Mark I wanted him to spend the entire day with me too and it was "my Christmas present."  That's the sort of thing you can get a lot of mileage out of as a mother.  I mean, that's what I've heard....)

Mark and Adam and I went to my classroom (because Friday was kind of a hot mess and I needed to do some triage).  Then we had lunch and did our errands.  At Winco, Adam wanted me to try the self parking feature in Joan.  He had tried it before because he's infinitely more curious and technically savvy than I am.

A self parking car sounds like the kind of voodoo I don't want any part of.

He and Mark cajoled so I finally relented.  We went to a far corner of the parking lot where there weren't a lot of cars.  Adam leaned over and pushed the buttons that needed pushing to activate Joan's self parking.  Joan took over and the wheel started turning and she was backing right into a spot.  Except the spot was where the shopping carts go.

I maintained that this is why I never did things like that and assured Joan she had other talents.  Adam still wanted to make it work.  We went to another section of the parking lot (where there was no shopping cart return spot--because obviously Joan was having an identity crisis.)  We drove along and she was "looking" for a spot.  We were passing lots of empty spaces.  Finally she "found" one.  Adam pushed all the buttons again and she tried to back right into another car.

And I'm OK with it; I'm not great at parking either and I don't hold it against Joan.  And also the entire experience made me laugh a lot.

It all goes to show that life with Adam is fun, even when you're in the parking lot of Winco with a stubborn/uncooperative/confused car.