Oh, really who wants to hear about people yelling things like: "Do you know what it's like to have ADD?" without an appointment first thing in the morning and being stuck in bumper-to-bumper traffic and having your iPod break and your computer be disconnected from your LCD projector.

So, here's a cute picture of Shef learning to ski:

Props to Dobby for the killer photo.

Shef has begun quoting his books and movies in apt situations. For instance, I came to his room the other night, exasperated by the fact that he’d been calling out for me for over an hour, and he looked at me, dejected.

“What’s wrong,” I demanded.

“She loves me not,” he explained, his lower lip protruding.

Flash-forward a couple of days, to when Dan was reprimanding me for burning out light bulbs too fast. I explained that the lights were burned out because I’d left them on overnight when I was home alone with my child while my husband lived in Iowa.

“Mommy, I’m afraid,” Shef interrupted.

“Of what?”

“Of the ringing bells of Santa’s sleigh.”

Of course.

And then yesterday, as we left Dan’s parents’ and discovered that a few inches of snow had fallen during dinner, Shef exclaimed: “The world is covered with a sparkling blanket.” I thought that was charming plagiarism if I’d ever heard it.

I’m pretty sure he wasn’t quoting any book or movie I’ve ever shown him, however, when he looked the tech who was set to x-ray his tonsils and adenoids in the eye and announced, “Now, we’re not going to cut my penis.”

No. No, we’re not.

I guess it's maybe because Dan's gone that's Shef's been working on his softer self this week. He's forgone fort-building and football practice for primping and talking about his feelings.

Last Friday, I missed a call from one of Shef’s teachers asking if she could paint his finger nails. He was really into the polish and bummed that he couldn’t get it done, so I slicked some red on him on Monday.

On Tuesday, we spent a half hour in Barnes and Noble reading books about Cinderella and Snow White. "Cinderella doesn't like her step mother, but she likes the prince," he reminded me.

Then, today at Target, Shef chose princess Pull-Ups over his usual Cars-emblazoned ones. When I put one on him at bedtime, he did a little happy dance, shaking his flower-covered butt all over the bathroom.

Finally, his grandma brought his new fish over. He got the fish for Christmas, but we went out of town right afterwards, so she had agreed to babysit. “I just want to be alone with my fish,” he announced, after feeding it and examining it for awhile.

I'm totally fine with all this stuff. I'm curious to see if he reverts to his boyishness over the weekend, when Dan makes his 24-hour appearance.

Well, the last hours of winter break are upon me. I had a really great vacation. I did almost no work (this will, of course, cause me pain in the coming weeks, but it’s pain I would’ve felt anyway), I visited the desert, and I did a lot of training for my half marathon. Oh, and also I registered for my thesis credits. This means that I’ll be finishing My Stupid Master’s Degree™ come heck or high water by May. I’m already planning the party.

Shef got great Christmas presents, became obsessed with all things Cars, and had his first day on downhill skis yesterday, thanks to his superstar grandfather.

Dan is back in Des Moines, for the fourth work-week in a row. I have developed systems for coping as a single parent, but it’s not exactly easy. The worst is the break-of-dawn drop off at daycare.

But anyway, here we go.

If you must travel with a toddler, I've found that the portable dvd player is indispensible.

Of course the portable dvd player and the first class fruit plate is really the best.

You know right away when a couple of your usual suspects come up to your desk before the bell rings to confess that they’re really sorry, but their prescriptions ran out, and they haven’t taken their meds in a couple of days, that you’re going to have a heck of a Friday. When the Friday is also the last day before a two-week break, you know you better summon some hard-core PMA. I could tell everyone was as ready for the break as I was because:

• When I stepped into the hallway this morning, en route to purchase coffee, I got hit by football. Apparently I got in the middle of “going long.”

• I couldn't start my movie about mining companies in Kentucky because the hockey players in fourth hour (there are eight) would not stop yelling, “He farted on me! He farted on me!”
  

• One of my fourth-hour cherubs tried to go to an English class next door instead of mine, and my pal Rachel had to walk him back over.

• When she walked in with him in tow, the class was busy yelling about the farting.

• When the mining protest songs started in the movie, the kids warbled along. They also yelled at the screen about how the women who were singing actually looked like men.

• My Christmas card from Maddie read, “Have a pimpin’ HOLIDAYZ, Ms. W. You are my fav-o-rite teacher evurrr.”

• The thesis statement in essay test I graded during the mining songs began, “Ok. First of all, this question is retarded.”

No sooner had I finally breathed a sigh of relief and packed up my load of papers at the end of the day, when a girl came in and said, “Um? Ms. W? There’s a huge fight going on outside.” I called the office, and then hurried outside just in time to see one of the fighters remove her belt and begin to whip her opponent.

If you think I was going to get in the middle of that one, you have another thing coming.

When thoughtful soph Allison gave me this tricked-out gingerbread house for Christmas, I was totally psyched.

I devoted a bit of each class to admiring it. The other sophs wondered whether Allison would be receiving an A for her stellar efforts at buttering-up the teacher.

I told them that if Allison weren’t already earning herself a resounding A, you better believe I would consider it. Some looked aghast at this news, but I told them, Don’t wor-ry! It’s only Tuesday! I’m accepting holiday gifts all the way through the end of this week!

I do hope they consider it.