D'Garebear is establishing rolls on his arms. We are swimming along.

Cinco is partaking in NICUschooling. It's like homeschooling, only it's done in the NICU. For those people who just aren't challenged enough by homeschooling. Or, for the parent who feels the need to school in semi-public in order to prevent meltdowns. And by prevent meltdowns, of course that only applies to the mother.

Cinco has mastered the art of looking forlorn and miserable with a single tear sneaking out of her large brown eyes. I have mastered the art of rolling my eyes at her and saying "suck it up buttercup." Mostly when it comes to reading. Because I make her read and she thinks that's a cruel punishment more befitting a totalitarian regime. Then again, I've read the BOB books, more than once. They are fairly tedious.

Cinco also doesn't cry, she squeaks. And the weight of the entire world rests on her shoulders as she is forced to read "bat, cat, fog, log." Ok, she might have a point, it is painfully uninteresting. (side note, I just spent 45 seconds trying to delete an errant period, turns out it was a random speck on the screen, no wonder the child doesn't trust me to educate her.) Well it's uninteresting except for seeing how cruelly oppressed Cinco is by the English language.

X-Man really wants to be homeschooled. I told him once he stops having meltdowns at school, he can be homeschooled. Cinco really wants to go to school. I told her once she stops having meltdowns during homeschooling, we'll talk. I see it as a win-win.

Baba is awash in English lit books. Right now she's reading The Scarlet Letter. Shockingly, I had extremely strong opinions on just about everything I read, especially in high school. And my opinions were so forceful, they alarmed my mother. Well probably more the fact that I was, and still am, incapable of any sort of nuance view. But I never let that stop my rantings about various characters. And one in particular I remember Arthur Dimmesdale, from the Scarlet Letter. First off, his name is Dimmesdale, and boy is he dim. And worthless. I never bought the whole, Hester Prynne, strong independent woman, fell for wimp-head Dimmesdale. The willing suspension of disbelief that required was a bridge too far for me. He was nothing except annoying. Which explains Pearl, who herself was bizarrely irritating too. Hester should have sent her to live with Dimmesdale. Now that would have been a book I enjoyed reading. Since Hester had the time to bedazzle a scarlet A, one does wonder why she never made a pair of man pants for Dimmesdale. Yes yes, he was probably too weak to put them on, but it was worth an effort.

And why didn't a branch just fall on Chillingsworth's head during one of his walks through the woods? Also, why not Dimmesdale? Seriously, how did those two not set off every hinkey gut feeling of the neighbors? Speaking of the neighbors, they did give me my favorite line every from anything I read in highschool “Behold, verily, there is the woman of the scarlet letter; and, of a truth, moreover, there is the likeness of the scarlet letter running along by her side! Come, therefore, and let us fling mud at them!” WHO TALKS LIKE THAT??? My mother tolerated a larger amount of mockery of that line than she typically did. Which just goes to show you, the whole situation was absurd. 

The hard part now, is that in theory, I'm grown up and mature and am supposed to be helping to educate Baba. I've bitten my tongue more than once while going over her study questions with her. But last night I lost all control and blurted out "How much do you hate that pansy Dimmesdale?" She responded "Who?" Apparently her response to fictional characters she doesn't like is to not think about them. A novel approach.