I really have nothing to say today. Actually, I probably have plenty to say today, but it’s hot and I’m tired and my tush hurts when I sit and my groin hurts when I stand and I just don’t have the energy to truly blog. I could tell you how Doodles pulled a no-nap day yesterday and pretty much sent me over the edge and I had more than my share of bad mommy moments. I could tell you how Doodles and Adam just finished up a “Mommy and Me” kayaking class and now Doodles asks for “kayaking! kayaking! People in boats!” I could tell you how Doodles is actually developing a memory, and if you ask him what he did yesterday or this morning, he can tell you. I could tell you how he’s finally figured out how to get out of bed, and yesterday morning we were greeted by the pitter patter of little feet and a great big grin in our faces at 6 a.m. (which is blessedly late in our house). I could tell you how Doodles and I attempted to swim at a friend’s house, but Doodles was “All done water” almost instantly, even though it was the first time in months I actually felt good in my body. I could tell you how I’m wrapping up work–I’ve done my last copyedit job and written my last book review until Sugar Face is old enough for day care, and I’m excited at the prospect of a couple of days to just get nested. But really none of this is very interesting and I don’t feel like trying to figure out how to make it interesting.
Tomorrow is my ultrasound to confirm that Sugar Face is not breech, at which time my c-section is cancelled and it’ll be my first weekly visit where the doctor checks for dilation, which is exciting for me, as I never had that done for Doodles, since he was a known c-section. So it’s possible I’ll have something interesting to write next week. But don’t count on it.
This afternoon Doodles and I were running errands not far from Adam’s office, so I called him to see if he wanted to meet up for lunch. He was game. As we walked into Bertucci’s, I said to Adam, “We haven’t been out to eat for a while as a threesome.” “You’re right,” he agreed.
Three minutes into sitting down, we suddenly were reminded why it had been so long. “Milk! Milk! Milk!” the little person with the big voice demanded from the end of the table. We weren’t sure whether or not to get him a high chair–at home Doodles uses a booster seat–but we decided containment was good. Only there’s nothing containing about a high chair anymore. The waitress brought him his milk in a paper cup with a plastic lid and a straw. Doodles instantly become more interested in removing the lid than in drinking the milk. And, oh what a lovely sound the straw makes when you slide it against the plastic. “All done milk! All done chair,” he stated, as he stood up.
“Doodles, please sit. Mommy and Daddy want to eat.”
“ALL DONE SITTING!!!”
Adam foolishly put Doodles in the booth next to him. For the next half hour, Adam struggled to keep Doodles from climbing over our booth into the meal of the person in the booth behind him. Finally, Doodles found a really entertaining game. He’d take the sugar packets, one by one, and crumple them. Then he’d turn around and hide them in the back of the seat, cramming them into the booth. We momentarily panicked when the sugar packets ran low, but Adam was able to successfully grab them back when Doodles wasn’t looking, pass them back to me to smooth out and discreetly return to the sugar tray. It wasn’t easy, but Adam and I both finished our meals.
We returned to Adam’s office so Adam could change Doodles diapers. I threatened that as soon as the two were in the bathroom, I was leaving. B*astard took my car keys with him. So much for my free and relaxing afternoon.
