If I just *think* about doing it, it never gets done. I need to actually open the little white box and type for my words to appear up here.
Funny how that happens.
So...Kirk and I have a date this weekend. Funny, the prospect of "dating" your husband, but it's a lot like the typing. If I just *think* about spending time with him, life gets in the way. It takes plans, and a babysitter (thanks, Mom), and the motivation of something I REALLY want to do...
We're headed to Love Letters by the Fire at the Fireplace Restaurant. Listening to love letters written by John and Abigail Adams while we eat food made from Mrs. Adams' family recipes--it's the sort of event made for a geeky girl like me. The bourbon tasting is kind of lost on both of us, since he doesn't drink at all and I drink only wine and girly drinks, but the menu--clam chowder and Braintree squash rolls, "Goose on the spit" with mushroom pastry and "cranberries in a slack oven", and ginger apple custard with vanilla ice cream--that part is very, very cool...Oh, and the restaurant is a place I've always wanted to go. Yay for me! Worth every penny of the $60 price tag.
Funny--once upon a time, $60 was nothing to spend on an occasion like this one. Of course, there was no husband and child and mortgage and all that back then...
Anyway...On a different note, I have managed to find myself a group of knitters in the area and am headed out for my first "Stitch and Bitch" evening (or, I guess, it now has to be referred to as an SnB--something about copyright infringement and a nasty New York company and all) on Monday night. 7pm at the Starbucks on the corner of Rte 1 and Dean Street, if anyone is local and interested in knitting with a group of crazy strangers. My family thinks it rather odd that I am heading out for a social evening of knitting. Poo on them. They didn't complain when I knitted them all scarves for Christmas. Besides, it may be just the incentive I need to finish that sweater that has been languishing in my closet since last February, when I decided I only wanted to knit things that were rectangular in shape.
Will skipped out of school today, the result of an extremely runny nose and a pair of gooey eyes. He actually seemed better this morning, but I took one look at him and thought, "If I were one of the other parents and I saw this face looking out at me from the middle of the daycare room, I'd be pissed." I don't think what he has is conjunctivitis--if it were, I'm fairly certain we'd all (or at least I'd) have it, too--he's not exactly shy about poking us and sticking things in our faces and such. And, of course, once I said I'd call the doctor this morning, he appeared to miraculously clear up. Just in time to cost me a half day's work PLUS the $35 that we have to pay for his school day whether he's there or not. Thanks, Will. Mommy LOVES it when you do stuff like that.
The worst part of it is that he sees it as a victory. He likes being at school, but he hates *going to* school. Every Wednesday and Thursday morning is a struggle.
Two weeks ago, coming off of his January sickness, the one in which he threw up 20 times in 18 hours and ended up in the emergency room because he hadn't peed for about 13 or so of those 18 hours, he decided he didn't even like being at school. He demonstrated this dislike at every opportunity, doing lovely things like hitting the other kids, or knocking all the books off the shelf, or singing "Jingle Bells" at the top of his lungs while everyone else tried to eat lunch and being so loud that he made one of the other kids cry, and then, when he was removed from the table, obtaining a toy and banging it on the floor next to the table, again being so loud that there were tears from one of the other kids.
You know it's bad when you walk in to get him and his teacher looks at you and says, "We need to have a meeting."
It's especially bad when said teacher is the mother of your best friend and has known you since you were in brownies with her other daughter. And it only gets worse when, in the course of the conversation, she uses phrases like, "No one wants this to work more than I do," all the while trying to hold back the tears in her eyes.
Yep. Good times.
That afternoon marked a turning point in the lives of the Jenistar household. There is no more eating on the couch. No more eating anywhere but at the table, actually. No more constant background TV. No more sleeping until 9:30, napping from 4-7, and then going to bed at 10. Not that any of these things were bad changes, mind you. It's just that with just the two of us here most of the time, Will tends to lead a pretty relaxed life. No more--the boundaries are up.
Thankfully, it seems to be working. Or, at least, it was last week. He had two really good days, and by the end of the week was actually telling the OTHER kids how to behave nicely. We'll see what happens tomorrow when he has to return to reality after another day of snuggling on the couch with Mom.
At least there were no snacks, though. I did manage to hold fast to that.
ANd now, I'm off to make meatloaf. Turkey meatloaf, actually. Aren't you all sorry you aren't eating dinner at MY house tonight?
Hey, at least it's homemade...And hot.
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