![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
June Saturday, with family
After a slow, lazy morning here, ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
cattitude went out to pet-sit and see a movie, and eve99 (a.k.a. Mom) spent the afternoon here, talking about family history, finances, plans, and such. Apparently at age not-quite-four I was cheerfully announcing "I have a brand new baby brother. I'm three. When I'm four, he'll be one. When I'm five, he'll be two." Which I had no recollection of, but which led Mom to consult the kindergarten teacher next door about whether she should do anything; the advice was "don't push her."
Mom remembers me complaining that she and my father expected me to do well in school/academics. She says that if they did, they didn't mean to pressure me, but I always did well, so they assumed I always would; what I think I was referring to (this was quite a while ago, again), was that it was so much expected that I'd do well that I felt as though I wasn't getting credit for it.
Back here in the present, Mom liked the cinnamon-orange-chocolate chip cakelings, and we saw five new-hatched ducklings in Inwood Hill Park.
I just wish I hadn't needed half an hour to fall back asleep around 5:50 this morning. And that I hadn't gotten a papercut on the webbing of my left hand while opening an envelope this morning. (This is part of why I'm having takeout sushi instead of a home-cooked dinner; it's also making typing awkward.)
cattitude went out to pet-sit and see a movie, and eve99 (a.k.a. Mom) spent the afternoon here, talking about family history, finances, plans, and such. Apparently at age not-quite-four I was cheerfully announcing "I have a brand new baby brother. I'm three. When I'm four, he'll be one. When I'm five, he'll be two." Which I had no recollection of, but which led Mom to consult the kindergarten teacher next door about whether she should do anything; the advice was "don't push her."Mom remembers me complaining that she and my father expected me to do well in school/academics. She says that if they did, they didn't mean to pressure me, but I always did well, so they assumed I always would; what I think I was referring to (this was quite a while ago, again), was that it was so much expected that I'd do well that I felt as though I wasn't getting credit for it.
Back here in the present, Mom liked the cinnamon-orange-chocolate chip cakelings, and we saw five new-hatched ducklings in Inwood Hill Park.
I just wish I hadn't needed half an hour to fall back asleep around 5:50 this morning. And that I hadn't gotten a papercut on the webbing of my left hand while opening an envelope this morning. (This is part of why I'm having takeout sushi instead of a home-cooked dinner; it's also making typing awkward.)