Shimmer.

I’ve got glitter on my eyelids again today. Because it affects my sense of self-worth. How can you feel really bad about yourself when your eyelids are shimmering? Even reading it in writing, knowing how insane it sounds, I still believe it. I feel pretty, oh so pretty. I feel pretty and witty and gay. Um.

Anyway.

School’s closing early today for the 1-3″ of snow they expect to start falling…aaaaany minute now. An early closing means no afternoon kindergarten. When there’s a delayed opening, however, there is still AM kindergarten. My recollection from kindergarten (and, believe it or not, I do have many) is that when there was a delay, AM kindergarten was off and when there was an early release, PM was off. I don’t know how decisions are made. All I know is that I have to go get my kid from the before-school program because there’s nowhere for him to go since school’s closed. (Also, that’s a lie; my friend is picking my kid up. But I do have to cheerfully receive him.)

I meant it when I said that I remember kindergarten. I at least remember being kindergarten-aged. To be honest, actual school-related details are limited to arrival on the first day, the image of my teacher’s long, black braid, the room number, getting treated for head lice in the nurse’s office and kindergarten graduation. But I remember a lot about being five and six. Even though I have sporadic earlier memories (including my earliest from around one) kindergarten is probably when I really came online. And realizing this lends a certain amount of gravity to, like, everything now. The Who is going to remember things now. Maybe in 34 years, he will sit at a computer (or maybe just have thoughts that will be automatically typed out — who knows what the technology will be in 2049) and type out a memory of that one time when school was called off due to snow and he spent the afternoon putting together a picture frame made of 100 colored craft sticks while a few guys banged around on drywall and lumber in the basement.

It’s crazy to think about him as a 40-year-old. And just this morning, as I watched his impossibly long legs carry him to the bathroom to brush his teeth, I thought it was crazy to remember him as a newborn. Shit’s moving way too fast. Also, sometimes, not fast enough. At least there’s always time to throw a little glitter on my eyelids before I start my day.

Photo Jan 07, 11 28 38 AM

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