My Daughter the Stellar Spellar!
This is the sort of thing that gives me hives (*cough*), proud as I am: Iz beat out the 39 other kids in her class for the honor of representing them in the school-wide 3rd - 5th grade spelling bee. And she wants me to come watch the competition next week. Gaaaah!
I am nervous about attending because I can't tolerate tension. I almost threw up yesterday during the Design Review meeting.
- Not because our house project was the last one on the agenda and we had to wait 3.5 hours to be heard and I hadn't calculated that into my paper-thin babysitting coverage--Seymour went home for a bit, and Marroqui kindly agreed to watch Leelo and Iz instead of cleaning.
- Not because Mali attended the meeting with me--she slept for two hours, let me read her a couple of books, was placated with a brownie that one of the architects brought, and then Seymour arrived just as our hearing started and played with her.
- Not because our neighbor Nad showed up out of the goodness of his heart to support us and then waited the entire time when he should have been at work.
- Not because, what with the primary architect and project manager having first driven the first leg of their two-hour round trip just to be at the meeting and then having to sit quietly for three hours, I might as well have walked to the nearest ATM, extracted $20 bills every few minutes, and handed them to anyone who walked by.
(My thought is that ideally I would like people to respect each other's wishes and tastes, and that I like neighborhoods to be somewhat architecturally cohesive--but that unless your neighbor's proposal violates an existing code, then you are SOL and it's none of your business. You signed away your right to protest non-code issues when you bought the fucking place. But I am tired and grouchy and think it's deplorable when people get the house they want and then try to deny others the same.)
Anyhow. I don't know if I will be able to go to the spelling bee and watch cute kids compete without vomiting. I played chess with Iz on Sunday and it took all my willpower plus a few sharp words from Seymour to keep me from bolting mid-game. (I got my butt whomped anyhow.)
While I've been good (I think) about encouraging Iz to consider that she has already won the first level--which is damn cool--and that it is good to learn how to both win and lose graciously, and to remember that she has already won a school-wide 3rd - 5th grade competition (poetry slam), she is still freaking out a bit. I wonder which one of us is closer to losing it. I hope it's me.