May
12
Offers on the table
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My luxurious Mother’s Day treat involved spending part of the afternoon rooting around our neighborhood Ross Dress for Less like a discount-sniffing truffle pig, and it was pretty much exactly my perfect sort of activity. Forget fancy breakfasts lovingly prepared by husbands and/or children: on my Very Special Day I want to go try on bargain basement clothing items in a crappy, smelly store lit by horrifying fluorescents and featuring the world’s most apathetic staff. Because I am KLASSY.
JB did give me breakfast in bed, though. Aw, who’s a good husband? He also slyly handed me one of his furniture-making periodicals first thing in the morning and announced he had an EXTRA gift for me, heh heh heh. Naturally, the title of the magazine was WOOD.
Our family outing for the day was to a nearby botanical garden, where I carefully balanced several river rocks on my shoulders while Dylan squirmed restlessly in the Bjorn carrier:
And JB demonstrated Tantrum Management Maneuver #47: The Marlin Hold.
On Saturday we left both kids with the grandparents as planned, despite the fact that both of them were acting like this:
At first I felt bad about saddling JB’s folks with the crabby, soul-sucking children, but as our car pulled out of the driveway the guilt was replaced by a nearly giddy sense of freedom. “Let’s not talk about the kids at all tonight,” I said to JB, and he readily agreed. That promise lasted for about three minutes but it was a fine night regardless: we saw Iron Man (very fun, I highly recommend it), and had an amazing dinner including DESSERT. I haven’t had dessert in three damn months and it is maybe embarrassing to admit but the prospect of chocolate? Officially more enticing than the offer of morning WOOD. Listen up, men: this is why you should constantly tell your women how hot their muffin-tops are, because otherwise they go on diets and their priorities get all KINDS of fucked up.
May
9
Motherfickle
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On tap for the weekend: JB’s parents, visiting for a couple days on their way to Canada, whose grandparently presence will hopefully allow JB and I to escape on Saturday for dinner and a movie. This outing, should it occur as planned, shall serve as belated anniversary date (May 5, seven years!) and slightly premature Mother’s Day celebration, although . . . is it okay to celebrate Mother’s Day without the children? Because otherwise, let’s not lie, it’s less of a celebration and more, you know, business as usual.
Business, however, has greatly improved since my last post, which is — get ready for a big old no-shitter — the way parenting always seems to go. You get driven straight up the wall until you’re clinging to the ceiling, teeth chattering, hair standing on end, eyeballs comically protruding from your skull, index finger poised to hit the speed-dial option helpfully (and controversially) labeled “SIBERIA” . . . and then your toddler sweetly offers you a corner of his beloved blue blanket “so you can get comfable unda the blankie, Mommy”, and your 3-month-old sleeps right through the damn night, from 10 until 7, and wakes up cooing.
Sometimes it’s the unpredictable nature of all this that I love beyond measure, and sometimes I can’t help thinking, WHO DO I HAVE TO BLOW FOR A LITTLE CONSISTENCY AROUND HERE.
So! What are you up to this weekend?
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