Jittery
>>I’m ready to go out and do something! Anything! Have some fun! But I don’t want to deal with driving and parking and people and walking and people and crowds and people. So basically I want to go to a store that has a parking spot reserved for me, that has only items I adore and that doesn’t have any more than 10 people in the whole store. I need to re-set my expectations.
Instead, we went to Costco.
They have a backyard playset that I was hoping we could get. The price is right and I thought it might fit in the backyard if we just put up the playhouse tower and slide (leaving off the swing set portion).
Keep in mind I have no spatial awareness. I just have dreams.
Mike has spatial awareness and pointed out it would never work in our tiny, sloped backyard. Dream killer!
It would be so lovely to have a playset in the backyard. Elsa doesn’t really like other children, but she loves playing on the slide. When we go to the playground she gets screamy if the other kids dare touch “her” slide. If any toddlers dare infringe upon her territory I have to remove her from the area or she’ll kick and push them.
>>I was interrupted and am back to writing several hours later. Elsa popped up with her boots on and jacket in hand, so we took her outside for a walk. I think that’s all I needed to get rid of this antsy feeling. Mike tried to relive his youth by walking across a very precariously placed log, but then gave up at the last minute. I was glad because I didn’t know how I was going to carry him and Elsa back down the hill while I called 911.
>>Erik is still obsessed with hedgehogs. You probably saw the picture on FB:
These were super easy (click through for directions) to make and they made him smile. I like to make him smile. He can be really happy when school is not in session, but on school days he is the crankiest child to ever walk the earth, so it was nice to start the weekend with happiness.
>>There’s a lady on my FB page that is grossing me out. She’s potty training her son this weekend and giving constant updates about the whole process. I don’t mind a “we’re potty training!” or “Yay! Success in the potty training department!” kind of post. I do mind hourly updates that include full descriptions of the output. Especially output of a child that is larger than Erik (the boy is autistic). Gag me with a spoon. Seriously, give your readers and your child some dignity. Also, I do not need to see pictures of piles of wet underwear. No. Just no.
>> Mike says I need to start nagging him. I don’t want to be a nag. I’ve heard negative language about nagging wives all my life. I want to tell Mike something and then have that something taken care of.
Here in the real world that doesn’t happen. He needs to nag me to get things done. I need to nag him to get things done. I have a major tendency to bottle things up and get totally pissed when my expectations aren’t met, but I am doing that awful thing of just expecting people to read my mind and know what I want. I hate it when I talk to people and they have a problem but refuse to communicate with the person who can solve that problem. Now I’ve become one of those people.
I think instead of becoming a nag, maybe I’ll become a list maker. Nagging in written form is more my style.
>>I had sleep! Glorious, glorious sleep! Three nights in a row I got a full nights sleep. For whatever reason Elsa didn’t wake up and nurse all night long from Thur-Sat. I thought my life was about to get back on track. Sleep deprivation ruins lives. It really does. Or at least it makes me depressed, cranky and fat. Everything makes me fat.
Of course I had to go and mention this to Mike, so last night she was back to nursing all night long.
We have her toddler bed set up. Now we just have to man up and get her in there. I am not good at sticking to my guns in the face of a crying toddler who just wants her mommy.
Speaking of crying children, why is it that Elsa, aged 1, can clearly tell me if the bathwater is too hot or too cold so I can fix the problem, but her six year old brother just stands there and screams and refuses to tell me the problem? WHY??????
Did I mention that I bought him a plush hedgehog? It is so fun to see him talking to Hedgie and having an imagination. He is a wonderful boy, he really is. But he does not exactly like to play pretend and make stuff up. I was trying to get in on the act, but he cut me cold when he told me “Um, mom, you KNOW Hedgie is just a toy and I am just making my voice sound funny but it is really me talking. Toys can’t talk *eye roll*.” One day he’ll be a very successful lawyer or engineer.