NaBloPoMo #2

This morning, the fog blanketed the neighborhood as I drove the little kids to school. Half an hour later, blue skies brought a sparkle to the crisp air. Finally! Finally it feels like autumn, and not soggy early spring.

All the leaves are turning, the vineyards are in that almost-golden stage, and it's simply glorious.

Of course, my mood could be colored by the fact that the Giants won the World Series last night. (Woo! Wahoo!)

Or it could be colored by the fact that I've got 700 tons of cheap halloween candy at my fingertips. Not that I'm eating any of it (stupid POINTS.) Something about knowing it's there makes it okay not to go facedown in the basket of goodies.

What my mood is definitely NOT colored by is my eldest daughter's mood because HOLY HORMONES, BATMAN. 11 1/2 might kill me. She's so, so, SO dramatic right now. There are tears over every perceived slight. There is Olympic-level eye-rolling. There is P to the M to the Ssssssssssssssss that hearkens back to my own youthful version - a version so terrifying and irrational that I'm not sure why my parents didn't conk me over the head and leave me in a field somewhere.

At age five.

Age seven. For the record, she was rolling her eyes at me since birth.

And yet, she's also totally delightful right now. She's hilarious, creative, capable and loving. Except when she's not. And you never know when approaching her what you're going to get. I'm hoping she develops some tells, because I'm developing whiplash. And a nervous tic.