My little birthday was oddly reflective this year-- 35, folks--which
seems like a big turning point. Combine my inward focus with a rainy
day, a pre-schooler, two toddlers and an infant and even the most SSRI'd
out there would reflect on their life path.
It
was a quiet little day on the island. I met some friends for coffee
then hung out with Mo for most of the day. I had planned on journaling
and setting some life goals but a colicky** baby got in the way of my
awesome self actualization. Oh well.
The kids did surprise me with a little dinner at home.
Moira
and I went down stairs to check email (nurse) and about one minute
later I heard a chair moving across the floor above me. Those of you
with kids in the same life stage as mine know that the scraping rattle
of a chair being moved is very, very dangerous.
Anywhoo-- I decided
not
to check it out, but instead call to the four year old*** to tell the
two-two year olds to stop it. He confirmed with an "ok". So, I think
we can all agree that this was a bad idea
Ominous
noises continue and I holler again to James who comes down. I ask what
he is doing and he says they are making me dinner. Good. I ask him if
they made a mess-- and he responds in a series of rapid fire
statements:
"No."
"You wait right here, k?"
"I'll be right back,k?"
"You sit right here, while I'll be right back"
Then I hear upstairs a bad stage whisper: "Guys, GUYS. We have to CLEAN UP." "GGGGUUUUUUYYYYYSSS!!!"
I
have a pretty good idea of the bad news that's going on upstairs at
this point but decide to give it thirty seconds so that they have at
least a fighting chance at reducing the damage. Moira, still attached to
me from our feeding/email session head upstairs to see this.
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The apple slicer is obviously very helpful for this recipe. What a time saver. |
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I am saving this one to show her future prom date. |
On tonight's menu: No bake quesadillas.
I
put M in her bouncy seat and started to clean up but Moira disagreed
about this plan (likely fear of falling cheese) so I sat back down with
her, nursed some more and snapped some photos.
Then, I called the babysitter to come a bit early.
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Happy birthday to me. |
Mo and I went out for a girls date, journaling, self-actualization and a little alcohol. I'd call that a success.
*Alternate title: "Get the Cheese off the Baby."
**I think we are getting close to calling that formal diagnosis. . . . wow, girly gets UPSET.
***A perfectly responsible proxy parent.