E has a job in Sacramento, which was looking like it might end up being more permanent. Thankfully, he decided to only do the 6 month rotation down there (3 hours south), so we don't have to uproot. Whew.Waaaaaait.... what did I miss?
Why?
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E has a job in Sacramento, which was looking like it might end up being more permanent. Thankfully, he decided to only do the 6 month rotation down there (3 hours south), so we don't have to uproot. Whew.Waaaaaait.... what did I miss?
Why?
Don’t listen to the idiots. They don’t know your kid like you do.Sure hard though.... when all of the idiots who don't have any idea about what is actually going on tell you how things would be fine "if you would only do x" or "if you would just stop doing x"
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Oh whew..... AwesomeE has a job in Sacramento, which was looking like it might end up being more permanent. Thankfully, he decided to only do the 6 month rotation down there (3 hours south), so we don't have to uproot. Whew.
thanks@Alaskan, kids don't come with a 'User Manual'. We do the best that we can. You as a parent have the truest instincts about what to do for your child. You will know when it is time to back off.
Ah... gotcha.E has a job in Sacramento, which was looking like it might end up being more permanent. Thankfully, he decided to only do the 6 month rotation down there (3 hours south), so we don't have to uproot. Whew.
My dad didn't like poems.... But he did like "Benny Hill".....Ok... your dad... and Broom's dad... nice poems! Gentle poems....
My dad .. his favorite poem was from the Heimskringler
"The brave young king, who ne'er retreats,
The Englishman in England beats.
Death through Northumberland is spread
From battleaxe and broad spearhead.
Through Scotland with his spears he rides;
To Man his glancing ships he guides:
Feeding the wolves where'er he came,
The young king drove a bloody game.
The gallant bowmen in the isles
Slew foemen, who lay heaped in piles.
The Irish fled at Olaf's name --
Fled from a young king seeking fame.
In Bretland, and in Cumberland,
People against him could not stand:
Thick on the fields their corpses lay,
To ravens and howling wolves a prey."