Sunday, June 12, 2005

Sea Change, My Ass

What was that crap all about? Why didn't somebody SLAP ME.

I've been sick as a dog for going on four days now*, my mother arrived a complete, limping wreck and had to plied with narcotics and muscle relaxants for two days in order to recover, just in time to return home. After depleting my carefully hoarded supply of prescription drugs, she took two of my precious offspring away on a plane without me and off into the wilds of Boston traffic and onto Swan boats and beaches and rotaries and God knows where else and really I'm FINE with that. Just fine.

I had to miss the Keren Ann concert due to a combination of me being sick and my mother being totally stoned. We were out at a farewell party for my neighbors (see list of shitty things below) when it finally dawned on me, at 8 p.m. on Saturday, that my romantic night out was not happening. I actually went table to table, pitching my poor little Keren Ann tickets to happy looking couples, who all regarded me with a weird combination of horror and pity, until I finally slunk away to the front desk of Central Market and asked the guy to try to give them away for me. I hope someone picked them up and had a good time. Hey! You did? It was on me. No really, don't thank me. I'm just glad someone was able to go. The whole failed attempt at giving stuff away was so humiliating that I went back to the playground through the parking lot so I would not have to see those people, with their pitying faces, ever again.

In other shitty news, my favorite people in the neighborhood are leaving not just the neighborhood but the country. I can't even come up with anything more to say about that except: totally shitty.

So let's recap:

1) Unspeakably sick.
2) Unpleasant visit with frail, aging mother who then left with two of my kids in tow.
3) No fabulous night out date after all.
4) Best friends leaving forever.

Everything is SO GREAT!

*I'd tell you the gorey details, in fact I feel strangely compelled to, but I once read a post by Jodi admonishing all who choose to reveal certain intimate details about their illnesses, and since Jodi is my Prom Queen, I do whatever she says. (Sort of. If you click the above link, take careful note of the picture on the right. Looks just like my gorey details!)

UPDATE: A guy just came to my door offering a good deal on steaks. Hey, my luck might be changing! Would you buy a steak that just fell off a truck?

SECOND UPDATE: The magnanimous Jodi took busy time out from grooming her cat and her DOG, searched through her archives for me, and came up with this post. I hope she'll forgive me for breaking her rules, and not force me to eat ten pounds of spicy eggplant when we dine together in July.

Wednesday, June 08, 2005

Day Care

I should be used to it by now, the crying. On Jack's first day ever, way back when, I left him at that day care center bawling his eyes out, drove straight to work, marched into my boss's office, shut the door, and burst into tears. It was heart wrenching, which was exactly what Jack wanted it to be, for me. But he quickly got used to the place and eventually stopped the show of tears every morning. The truth was, he loved it there, and he and I both knew it. Javy, who is the Most Unflappable Baby on the Planet, never shed a single tear. It's only now that he has turned two and feels the need to demonstrate some degree of willfulness that he will occasionally lie down on the floor and sob in protest when I leave him. Even Eli adjusted pretty quickly to the whole day care thing and hardly ever cried when I dropped him off.

And I guess I'm a little less susceptible to it now. I'm certainly not crying as I write this, just like I'm pretty sure the babies aren't crying any more. And also, don't get me wrong here, I love day care. I love dropping my kids off somewhere where there are other kids and grown ups and things to do that are different from the things to do at home. I love being able to stop by my house and take a shower or do the dishes or have a cup of coffee and not be instantly tackled and needed and distracted into child care instead of whatever the hell it was I went home for. I love letting someone else change their diapers and play with them and otherwise entertain them so I can just be myself for a change, so I can be ALONE for a change.

It's been a week, now. They're going for two half-days and two full-days each week until the end of August, when it will be full-time. I know they're having a good time there, I like the teachers, the classrooms, the outside play spaces, it's all good. But Lordy, I hate leaving my babies in tears.

Sunday, June 05, 2005

Sea Change

It's been a rough couple of weeks, full of illness and bad neighbors and a negative cash flow. Friday I was running an errand, babies in the car with me, rather far from home, when my car started to pulsate and my check engine light began to flash. My heart sank. I drove it to the dealer, afraid every second that it would die on me or blow up before I made it there, pulled under the service canopy, and got out.

Jesse was nice, took my information, asked if I had an extended warranty, told me it would cost me $85 just to do a diagnostic on a check engine light, but they would take that out of the total bill. I told him I had no warranty. He sat for a long time in the driver's seat, listening to the motor. He said they were too busy to look at it until Monday, and he got me a ride home in the Courtesy Van, driven by the world's slowest driver who spoke no English.

That was my morning. I was a wreck. Went to work in the afternoon, came home to make dinner for the babies. At 5:30 the phone rang: Jesse. Do you want the good news, or the bad news? I said give me the bad news first. He said, just kidding, there is no bad news. You had some fuel injectors go out, we replaced them, and everything was covered under your extended warranty. My what? You have an extended warranty, it's in the system, and you're good to go. No $85 charge? I asked, incredulous at my good luck. Nope. When do you close? We're here til 7. So, off to the dealer, picked up my happy car, went out for a celebratory dinner, home to bed, and woke up to the sound of B. puking his guts out at 4 in the morning. So, I guess it wasn't a sea change for everyone. But still, I'm taking it as a sign.

B. spent the day in bed yesterday, so it was a long day for me, what with all the feeding and cleaning and nursing and walks to the park and diaper changes and baths and more feeding and preparing of food and breaking up of fist fights. I fell into bed at the end of the day, exhausted, and put on the radio to help me to sleep.

Keren Ann (warning: audio link) came on the radio, and the DJ offered tickets to the 6th and 7th callers to see her next Saturday night. I picked up the phone.

Mom will be here next weekend which means the babysitting issue is all taken care of. Brian's better today, and I'm going to try to get some work done.

I'm calling this a sea change, a change in the weather, a seismic shift.

Thursday, June 02, 2005

Things I Don't Love About the Weaning Process, #296

Having the neighbors comment on my expanding...tracts of land. Really? They're bigger? No kidding. Thanks for pointing that out to me.

It's day two of day care, very exciting stuff, but not the most comfortable experience for me or my acreage. I'm just eliminating the lunchtime feeding, so it really shouldn't be quite so PRONOUNCED.

Just please, whatever you do, DO NOT HUG ME.