An hour in to our whole-family visit to the doctor's for a checkup for Baybo and flu shots for everyone else, I decided I would not purposely schedule something like that early in the week again while we are a two-full-time-job family.
That was Monday night at 6pm. We wouldn't actually get home until almost 8. I can only hypothesize that it was the tech's first day on the job. If this were my first baby, I probably would have cried.
A day later, thinking ahead to another long day on Thursday due to a morning conference with Mr. P's teacher, I decided I would never purposely schedule two things in one week, either.
With nothing profound to say, I will distract you instead with a photo of cuteness at 4 months.
Rather, one I wrote yesterday but didn't quite manage to post. :)
Bayboh is still very much a lump (it's hard not to laugh when he does tummy time at baby group - the baby next to him will have a perfect arched back, arms and legs churning away, and Bayboh will have his head resting placidly on one cheek, fist stuffed in mouth, completely inert but for the slow gnawing).
But he is a wiggly lump when he's excited, like tonight when he's sitting on my lap, hooked with one arm while I eat dinner, and Shmoogie is doing "tornadoes" next to the table. She shouts, "NinjaaaaaaaGO!" and spins herself around, knocking into things and thinking she might fall over, then stops and looks straight at Bayboh with a silly look of surprise on her face. Delighted by the show, he jiggles his whole body up and down, grinning and slobbering, arms flapping while his legs try to run away on air.
I was feeling a little sad this morning (Wednesday) as I walked Mr. P to school for the first time in a month. "If I didn't have a job," I was thinking, "I could volunteer for all the field trips and not have to think for a second about my leave balance."
Ten minutes in, though, as the rain came down heavier and heavier on our good old-fashioned walking field trip, I came to my senses and realized that it is only because I'm working that we have a nanny and I can go on a field trip in the sopping rain without dragging Baybo through the muck along with us.
As the rain kept coming, I worriedly (and helplessly) monitored the water resistance of my charges' jackets and noticed that my long rain coat was keeping the top of me very dry by routing all the rain onto two spots of my jeans, one above each knee. Soon, those two spots were soaked through and I started to feel a little rivulet running down each leg. I thought about how disastrously this all would have gone if I'd tried to bring Baybo along and was grateful to have been saved from that predicament.
Now I'm feeling a cold coming on and finding myself a bit unhappy at the thought of having to take a sick day, because I would maybe rather be at work! So I think the job thing is working out well, even if it has meant less time for some things.
I feel like I have a bit more patience for the evening hours, which are always the worst (outside of the morning hours...). I nearly lost it in frustration trying to get Mr. P to do his math homework this evening, but started singing the "three digit subtraction with regrouping" problems to him instead. (I'm sure this sounds treacly, but we have had so little happy homework interaction that you're just going to have to deal with hearing about this one.)
Me: 2 minus 5, what do we do?
Him: Go next door and borrow some more!
Me: Cross out the 5 and write a...
By golly, it turned into a really fun jam for both of us, stamping the beat and finishing each other's lines. It was remarkably good for him! Just like he (usually) likes it when I chant handwriting cues to him ("U is a smile, then down! E is a drive, then around! W goes bump bump bump bump!"), I don't know yet if it's the rhythm or the tonality or both, but he'll actually tune in and work at a reasonable steady pace. Maybe the rhythm attracts his attention so he's not distracted? Maybe he's just bored doing the same kinds of problems over and over (even though he does need the practice) and the added challenge of keeping the beat and maybe even trying to rhyme keeps him entertained? I don't know, but I like it! We could call it hacking the homework.
(Forgive the verb tense confusion and general time lapsing, it takes me more than a day to cobble together the time for a post these days.)
Amongst the rough patches of going back to work (although mostly it's been great, I have to say), I scheduled Shmoogie's birthday party for Monday afternoon, and didn't realize until Friday that my new office switches out the Columbus Day holiday (which is now Indigenous Peoples Day where we are, btw) for an extra day at Thanksgiving. Whoops!
I'm taking a few hours of leave so I'll be there and Mr. Right is handling the set up. The cake is delicious (at least, the cake alone is delicious and the frosting alone is delicious and so I am confident the combination will be, too). Mr. P helped make a pinata (we started planning Lord Garmadon — the requested party theme was Ninjago — but then he suggested "the Overlord" because it would be easier; amorphous whispy face instead of incredibly complicated Lego minifigure - he was right).
Mr. Right created a treasure hunt while I was at work. And came up with activities like "ninja spinning" when the kids seemed unable to entertain themselves.
Ah yes, Shmoogie is another year older. And quite a year it has been for her! No longer the baby of the family, going to school (a "new"school in her mind, too; although the check goes to the same place, her classroom is in a different building) 5 days a week, and spending the afternoons with a nanny instead of me. Plus a new haircut, because she wanted bangs and wanted it all too short for her to chew on. That's a whole lot of change for a little person! So I try to be patient when she's weepy for "no good reason" (which she is, often) and impressed when she takes it all in stride, staying her own cheerful and confident self (which she does, most of the time). Five years old. Time sure flies.
Sunday, I was really bummed out. Mr. P had woken up in a good mood and his handwriting tutor had arrived with a Harry Potter project I was sure he would love. And yet, he was still flopping on the table, leaning on me, generally being a bag of jelly in passive resistance of any real handwriting work.
Disappointing, frustrating, embarrassing. Argh.
So you can imagine how stunned I was to get home Monday evening and be told that his homework was already done and that his spelling notebook had come back from school with ten spelling words neatly written (for him) and in alphabetical order (all but one)!
It might actually be more of a feels-good-to-stop-banging-your-head-into-the-wall, except that's not quite right, either...
At any rate, Mr. Right comes down from bedtime last night and tells me Shmoogie is sleeping in the guest room because Mr. P poured a glass of water in her bed.
I respond with a look of horror, but Mr. Right only shrugs and says, "At least he admitted it." He thinks it over for a moment, then says something about how he wonders if Mr. P realizes that he's got us in the boiling frog situation.
I think this over myself, then realize the implication, "You mean, he poured water in his sister's bed and the consequence was that you thanked him for being honest about it?"
Oh, well. Baybo's still adorable (and sleeping again, unlike earlier in the week when he had a cold).
It's been a good week, but I don't have the energy to write much. I had a laugh this evening, though, when the nanny was debriefing me on the day. She said she'd had serious conversations with each child separately, about how it's NOT OK to do something on purpose that you KNOW is going to make your sibling really mad. Apparently, Shmoogie looked at her with a scowl and said huffily, "Even when MOM's here?!"