Things I'm letting go of...

including, hopefully soon, this profound ick I have going on. Bleck. If I even think about how queasy I feel, I get queasier. My tastebuds are a hot mess which is obviously a complete tragedy what with lemon curd in the fridge. Also, tomorrow is T's birthday, and I intend to make some magnificent dessert concoction: homemade Boston Cream Pie?? I have also planned a fabulous Belgian beer crawl for T tomorrow night (don't worry, he doesn't read this) and really think it will be more fun if I can imbibe with him. The cat is being profoundly high maintenance right now which is all the more irritating considering yesterday's ESCAPade. Not an hour after I recovered him, I got both boys packed in the car as I needed to drop J at an activity. No sooner do we arrive than I get a call from DC Public Health: "Percy was found on Mass Ave and is now with a neighbor. They would like him picked up very soon or he'll be transported to a shelter."

Mother of...Oliver and I scrammed home to bring back my second pet-break animal. I'm over the pets today, people. Over them.

But back to the things I'm letting go of.

For starters I have decided that I quit re: Jack's Legos. I have, four or five times, sorted thousands of them by shape: planks, skinny planks, bricks, wheels, people, landscaping... The first time was a wonderful way to avoid Thanksgiving. The second time may have been in a fit of hormonally-induced nesting. I can't recall if I spent any of my pneumonia tenure wading through the damn Legos, but enough is enough. He can sort them if he wants to. Otherwise, if he spends an hour stuck under the mountain of them that crashed down over him, maybe he'll rest. If he loses time and his hands go bloody digging through eight feet of them, well, perhaps he'll learn something. Then again, he might not give a rat's ass, and so now, neither do I. Even if that means I have to close my eyes when I look into his room.

Secondly, I have decided that I no longer care what the children choose to eat together, by which I mean at the same time. Yesterday for breakfast, Jack requested honey nut O's and milk with a side of garbanzo beans straight from the can. Meanwhile, Oliver likes to mix milk and seltzer. Both of these marriages make me want to puke, but if they're eating, I'm not going to say a word.

These probably seem enormously self-evident to y'all, but I say, two steps forward!

Infarct amidst lemon curd

Good lord in the heavens, people, my heart is racing. You see, since I made that rose petal jelly the other day, I have been dying to also make lemon curd. They are sublime together, and so the two must be. After a wildly productive morning (but WHY am I still so queased out?!), I decided to get to it. I also put Nutmeg outside on his leash because he was calling mournfully at the back door. The creamy, zingy, ethereal concoction that is lemon curd came to fruition beautifully.

I took it outside to take a photo -the sun is out, yo!- said hi to Nutmeg and started snapping away. I heard something, looked back at Nutmeg and saw this:

Erm, where is my cat?! Y'all, Nutmeg had thrown himself over the deck and into the neighbor's yard. Mother of... As his leash is not that long, it broke off halfway down. I raced to the railing, looked over, and saw Nutmeg licking his damn tail. He looked askance at me and sauntered off as if nothing had happened, collar resting lazily on a lariope.

I threw my precious curd onto my kitchen counter, grabbed a bag of cat treats and ran next door. Knock, knock, ring, ring: no answer. Fortunately, my neighbor and I are friends so I went around to her side gate and could see the perpetrator's nose sniffing at it. I opened the door cautiously and pounced on him before he could scram.

My heart has only just slowed, and fortunately, I got my curd covered and into the fridge before a horrid skin could form. T likes skin on pudding- can you get over that shit? Horrors!! No skin on this gal's curd!

Surprising news, gratitude, nice dinner for one

People, it is not every day that news of your own health surprises you in a good way. Yet today I was informed that since I last visited the eye doctor seven years ago (maybe I should neglect more medical appointments), my eyesight has improved and my wimpy glasses prescription is now too strong. I now have cooler glasses that are also more effective; obviously this is a serious win-win. As such I purchased real sunglasses with polarized lenses because now that I know my eyes are so fine, I simply must do better to protect them. Just you wait, seven years from now, the damn polarization will likely have weakened my vision, just because I tried tending to it. Gah, at least these new shades won't be horribly scratched, rip my hair out and peeve me to the max every time I don them. It's the little things. Two years ago, we had one of the greatest babysitters ever. S was wonderful, loving and truly loved being with children. Then, as it goes, she moved. "Please," I begged her, "you must recommend someone who is basically just like you!" Soon enough, she sent me a name, a woman who taught at the same school as did S's boyfriend. K is not just like S -and really, this is why life is grand and fun- but then again she is: she too is wonderful, loving and truly loves being with children. I am happy to call her a friend, and I am grateful that although she now teaches full-time at a great school not close to us, she still makes time to sit and visit.

You see, as many of you likely know, parenting gets harder and harder as your kids age, NOT easier. Sure easier in some ways -no more wiping bottoms- but harder in the big ways. And as such, you really start to rely on and value that much more, the people in your kids' lives who are guiding and loving them, on a daily, weekly, monthly, whatever basis. When the kids are little, you want someone who will enjoy and engage with them, who will read and play. And you want that when they're older too, but you also want someone who commands respect, who they love but listen to, who can play but also teach. A person (or people) who is an extension of your own value system, though they may have different beliefs and ideas to share ("please do, just don't evangelize," I say).

When we met K, I was struck by her complete and utterly sincere earnestness. It just oozes from her. I then came to know of her work ethic (tremendous) and her desire to really help kids learn about various perspectives, community involvement and, simply, giving back. I know when I leave the house that the kids are not only safe but also cherished, they'll be both well fed and well nurtured, they will be accepted and also disciplined when necessary. And if that's not peace, nothing is.

I got my pedicure and visited with Yen (the most wonderful, dignified woman about whom another post will be) and then came home, restored and knowing that my zen would not be kicked to the curb upon crossing my home's front threshold. We visited for a while which is always lovely (her attention to her pedagogical strategies and skills is inspiring) and then parted ways. Thank you, K, for everything.

For me, a quiet night. My old, Tom-is-out-of-town standby, pumpkin ravioli with sage brown butter, as well as some roasted veggies. I'm gonna get my crossword on and hit the sack early as I'm still hoping to rid myself of this gastric ado that's beset me. Hasta mañana!