Odd offering

For most or all of the past four days, Oliver has come into our bed between 3 and 5am. I'm not sure exactly how many times this has happened because I feel like I'm living in one of those swirly, Austin Powers-type swirls; the days are being sucked into a psychedelic vortex in which time ceases to be any sort of reasonable, helpful marker.

He claims nightmares, ideas, a desire to sleep "in yah bed, Mom"... before propping head on my stomach and feet into Tom. One morning, after I pleaded with him to return to his bed and let us sleep, he left but later brought me an offering. It was rather like the human equivalent of a fresh kill your cat drops on your doorstep: tiny bags (popped air-bag insulation) filled with cat and dog food and taped shut.

"In case we suddenly run out of pet food, Mom. Then we'll have these." I think I said "Thank you and nice thought"?

Needless to say, we're all bushed.

Perhaps that is why I way over-salted what should and could have been a scrumptious dinner last night. What a sad waste. My own canned tomatoes, fresh squid, a thoughtfully constructed sauce underpinned with anchovies, saffron, shallots and garlic. Boo!!

An irreparable bummer, but at least the baguette we were to have dipped in the sauce made for a great sandwich today.

Look at this guy happily a'snuggle with moi. Love!

Gawl dang

Some afternoons with kids are just sub-par. Things started off so well today, what with a surprise chocolate donut with sprinkles as an after-school treat, a trip to the pet store to purchase two replacement fish (no additional deaths; just the original two), and a(nother) game of Forbidden Island.

Oliver, however, has been crying on and off since the pet store over a kitten named Garth that he desperately wants. One of the checkout women actually put her hand over her heart as she watched me attempt to console his tearful demonstration. Look, I love kittens and think there's little cuter than a darling face just begging you to take him home. Had I not been convinced T would consider moving out, I'd probably have adopted tiny Garth. But we have a burgeoning menagerie over here, so I kept telling Ol that "right now we just need to get these wonderful new fish home before their air runs out."

Of course the air situation wasn't that dire, but really, I had to get that boy out of that store!

We returned home, played said game of Forbidden Island and then Oliver remembered Garth, the "kitten with the blue necklace (collar)," and lost his business anew.

Jack, meanwhile, was all smiles and thrill until some invisible lever switched into the Hyde mode, and he went bonkers about Tom's request to "clean up the seaweed you spit into your own bath tub [another incident that left Oliver in mournful, aggrieved tears] and all over the floor." Jack actually said this request was unfair.

All you can do is laugh in a situation like this because that response and attempt at a decent argument is beyond asinine.

It was with real happiness, then, that I tottered off to back to school night in another pair of fabulous heels. And now I'm home and feeling newly grateful and incredibly inspired about the truly excellent teachers that guide my children through their school days. Wow.

Sunday, Sunday

This morning at 8:34am, I looked up at the clock, fully expecting it to read something north of 10:30. Imagine my chagrined shock to find us still in the eights. Sweet lord. Ol joined talking forces with Jack today, and I swear to you that by noon, T and I were twitching. I suspect he dissociated briefly at the farmers market but he tells me that's not what the odd manner and stare and aimless gait were about.

We went to said market because after a storm last night blew out the steamy humidity fest that was DC, today was spectacularly beautiful, and I wanted to get out of the house and eat. Knowing the boys would eagerly snarf a Red Zebra pizza and some Pleasant Pops, we started with those. T got a pizza too and nearly licked the box clean. I went for a trio of tacos at Chaia and was not disappointed. We arrived too late for chicken, darn it. Eco-Friendly foods sold out hours earlier I was told. Boo. More chicken next week but today's was never-frozen and next week will have spent a week in the cold store. Ah well, at least I'll get me some.

Once home, we planted the children in the basement in front of a lengthy movie. I hauled it upstairs with Cat and T went to the gym with some mystical energy he summoned. Then we moseyed to Jack's first baseball game of the season and cheered them on as they won, 9-3. Amazing how those kids have grown and actually learned to play good ball as a team. Back a few seasons ago, I'd perhaps not have bet on such a turn-around. ;)

Tomorrow is a largely responsibility-free one, and I couldn't be happier about that.