Of course, I shouldn’t have worried. We could hear the cries of “water balloooooooons” coming from the bus before it got to the stop sign. All the kids on the bus were excited.

More pics of the fun

At first, I asked Stagg to look at it. He opened it up, took a look around, did something and made the squeak stop. For about 2 minutes. When it ran with just a few dry towels inside, there was quiet. But as soon as I put actual wet laundry in there, the horrendous squeak started again. He said he’d look at it again… soon.

So I spent a couple weeks dividing my laundry loads into thirds and trying that. The squeak was still there, but it was not nearly as bad. And, to be honest, there were some clothes that didn’t really need to be in the dryer right away like the sweaters that seem to shrink a little when I take the easy way with the dryer. And jeans. And the towels did fine when they had a little time to air dry first.

It was inconvenient, but I could manage. But then that was no longer cutting it and the squeak got louder and louder. I reminded Stagg he said he’d look at it again, and he said he’d get to it soon. Soon.

And then the squeak got loud enough for me to have had enough. Nothing, not even dry things could go into the dryer without a whine you could hear from the bottom of the driveway. So I decided it was time to take action.

At first, I tried to take the back of the dryer off. I saw Stagg moving around back there with a screwdriver, so I thought I was in the right place. Not so much. The back of my dryer doesn’t come off. I figured that out after I got all the screws out pulling only got me a few little cuts on my fingers.

So I turned to the internet. Ah, the internet. The magical place where I was able to find instructions on how to take my dryer apart complete with pictures. I took the top off. I took the front off. I saw where there was an obvious problem.

First, I tried to fix it with some tape. Duct tape fixes everything, right? Well, I couldn’t find duct tape, so I tried packaging tape. I slapped it on there, put the dryer back together and it worked smoothly. I did a little dance, told Stagg I was a goddess (he agreed) and enjoyed the 10 minutes of quiet drying until the squeak came back.

I took it apart again. The girls came home from school. I found some duct tape (technically, “duck tape”). It happened to be hot pink. I ran the dryer with the top off as a test. All systems go. Quietly. Re-unplug, put it all back together and plug it back in. I don’t know what I did wrong at that point, but I got the shock of my life. I know I screamed because Maggie came running. She looked horrified. I was horrified. And tingling. And more than a little scared. I re-plugged the dryer in with my foot. 5 minutes before an even worse noise started. Maggie came running back and wanted to know why I was running a lawnmower in the house.

Back to the internet. New pictures, and something caught my eye. The picture I saw said the “drum glides” on that dryer looked worn. My dryer didn’t have drum glides. It had spots where the drum glides should have been, but nothing that looked like the drum glides in the pictures. I thought this might be the problem, and I told Stagg that is what I needed to buy.

He decided he needed to take a look. He tried some duct tape. I told him it wouldn’t work, but he tried it anyway. To hedge his bets, he added some WD40. That made it quiet for 7 minutes, but the lawnmower noise came back.

Finally, he admitted that my diagnosis was correct. After calling Home Depot to see if they had the parts I needed (they laughed at me), I found an appliance parts store– I had no idea these existed for normal people. I went to a store, picked up 4 drum glides and another piece, took the dryer apart again and put in all the new parts. I put the dryer back together (very carefully so I didn’t give myself another jolt) and let ‘er rip.

My dryer might be running right now, but I’m not sure. It is now too quiet to hear from the next room.

Katie has been reading little things for a while; even the occasional Eric Carle or Dr. Suess book. And she has looked longingly at Maggie’s longer, more grown up books and asked for chapter books of her own. She’s even tried to take some of Maggie’s books to read, but she just couldn’t quite do it.

So last week, while I was at the library, I picked up an easy reader chapter book for my baby. She “read” it in the car one day, and left it open to a page somewhere in the middle. This past Friday, I brought it back to her and mentioned that I was very proud of her for reading so much of the book.

Nah, she told me. Its too hard for me. I just looked at the pictures and skipped the words.

So we started on the first page. Honestly, I thought she was probably right. She couldn’t possibly read this chapter book. Not my baby. But she did. She read the first chapter aloud with me sitting next to her, and then decided she could tackle the next two chapters on her own. And she read every word on every page.

I think it is time to call her, officially, a reader.

Stagg and I started listing off all the problems with this idea, including:
* A train coming through the living room would make it hard to watch TV
* A train going through the kitchen and laundry rooms would also make it hard to cook, eat and do laundry
* A train going through the house would make it very cold on days like today when it is 20 degrees outside.
* Carnivores are not actually as nice as they seem on TV.
* Our trees would be eaten by the herbivores.
* We are all made of meat, which is what carnivores eat.
* The dinosaurs would probably eat us. quickly.

Maggie thought about it for a while and decided that it would no picnic to have the train in the house. And then she thought about the carnivore part a little more, and decided that she wouldn’t like it if dinosaurs ate Stagg, Katie, Lucy or I, but it would be ok if they ate Oscar and November.

I knew I liked this kid.

Scratch that! I see snow!

Katie rides her bike! from Sheila Mahon Shelton on Vimeo.

Dear Maggie,

When I got into the shower yesterday, the song on the radio was “Big Yellow Taxi,” a song I don’t think I will ever hear without thinking of you.  But yesterday, in addition to thinking about your misheard lyrics, I also thought about how the song is about change, and how much you have changed in the past 7 years, and also how much you have stayed the same.

From before you were born, you had a mind of your own.  Overdue by over a week, you made it known quickly that, even after we had forced you into this world, we had disturbed you plans.  The first night in the hospital, you cried every time I stopped feeding you; you seemed so angry I could not make your day get any better.  At seven, you are still strong willed, but you are so much more skilled at it.   On Sunday morning at brunch, you pouted and stared stonily because you had ordered chocolate milk instead of the lemonade you wanted (insisting, the whole time, that you had actually ordered the lemonade. That there were 5 of at the table plus the waitress who had heard differently did nothing to change your mind).  Although I was frustrated that you wouldn’t cheer up, the strength of your conviction made me smile.

You have always been strong.  Even as baby, with your rolls of baby fat, you held your head up, sat up, crawled and walked early.  And now, there is no more fat on you, and you are even stronger. You love sports– love the challenge, the teamwork and the ability to be good at something. It is wonderful to watch you run and play and see that it isn’t only that you are good at it, but that you really enjoy being active. Of course, you have also been known to walk into walls when you aren’t paying attention (and sometimes, even when I think you are), and can manage to fall down while standing still.  It is hard to balance those two things, but you seem to manage it somehow.

And your mind!  You are an academic acheiver, good at math and reading. You love science, and everything you have to say about school you say with such enthusiasm.  I love having your teacher tell me how much fun it is to have you in class. The stories you tell us at home are funny and interesting.  It is a real treat to watch as your funny, creative, quick mind develops.

Being your mom has been the best job I’ve ever had. It can be difficult (see the strong willed part) but it is also the most rewarding thing I’ve done, too.  We have our moments when we butt heads, but I’m working on it.  I’m trying to be more patient and remember that sometimes, you are acting your age…

And now you are done with your ice cream cake snack, so my break is over, and it is time to get back on the job.  I love you, Mags.

Love, mommy.

Things are getting done here, and I think it is time to start focusing on the fun stuff again. Enough with the stress of the holidays! I’ve been running around, feeling like there isn’t any possible way that there could be enough time. I’m done. This Christmas season is going to be enjoyable, darnit. And I only have about 17 more things that have to get done before I can start relaxing and enjoying it. Well, that is, until my list grows again…