On Saturday morning, Matt and I were standing in the kitchen. It was probably about 8:00, and I have to admit to still feeling somewhat jarred to the core at the fact that I am up by 7:00 most Saturdays. For me, the early wake-ups remain a really un-fun part of the whole parenting thing.
Anyway, the radio was on, and we heard a strange "news story", which was that apparently, August 6th was to be the day of the year on which people will feel the happiest, at 7:00 pm to be precise. Something about its being a Saturday in August and 7:00 pm being the pinnacle of happiness time...umm, I definitely have to disagree with that last part. At 7:00 pm in our house, chaos is usually the reigning state of the moment, trumping only exhaustion on everyone's part as we try to wind down a day that has usually been long and tiring. It's a time of day when there is a lot of whining, a lot of screeching, a lot of Charlie and Lola theme music, and if hair pulling creates a noise - if even very quiet - add that in too (mine at least, and probably sometimes Noah pulling Blake's).
I think the events of the past couple of days made that story seem even more farcical to me: destructive riots in London; what seems to me to be a larger than usual number of deaths in the media - by nearly every imaginable and horrible way possible (and sometimes even unimaginable - polar bears!), to people who were far too young to be taken; the global economy tanking...UGH. If you're reading DwL before checking out the news, my advice is to not go look - it's all very very depressing.
I've always loved numbers - not like math or anything - but the evenness of round numbers, the order of even numbers, the occasional odd number if it has a place in a larger scheme of things. In that respect, I'm looking forward to tomorrow: 8/8. I've always liked the number eight and maybe, just maybe, some good news will come from the world. Otherwise I think I'll have to take an internet break...and make that a radio break too.