Boy am I glad I spent half the summer doing my lesson plans on I-cal. There is, literally, NO time to do anything for school, aside from some grading, on the weekends. Ever tried to open up a Macbook at the dining room table with your 3 year-old and 2 year-old around? Not today. Not any day any time soon.
At 3am on Saturday morning, I was awakened by Nicholas' coughing. He's been coughing all week. He's in day care and no longer living in the little germ-free bubble afforded to my children in their first few years of life. We all went back to sleep, but on Saturday morning, the garden slug-sized booger stuck to Nicholas' face made me feel kinda bad I didn't go in to check on him in the middle of the night. Only a working mom can actually be glad that her child is sick on a weekend. I remember Owen once throwing up all over his high chair tray one Saturday morning and thinking, "Oh, thank goodness it's here at home on a weekend." No need to call in sick, or go pick him up from day care, where a change of clothes is almost never seasonally appropriate.
So today, Nicholas stayed in with Jason and Peter and Owen and I ventured out to a birthday party. It was just the strangest feeling in the world to have only one of my children with me. I'm used to having multiple personalities at events like these, during which I enter into a quarter of a conversation with an adult, then shift with no segue whatsoever into Mommyspeak: "Nicholas! NO CLIMBING! HOT! HOT! VERY HOT!", then shift right back into my conversation about the price of gas. This did not happen today. Owen just played. I took him to use the potty twice. I got him his plate at lunch. I made sure he didn't double dip in the salsa. And the whole time I felt like I should have had my eye on something. On the drive home, I felt guilty for leaving Jason at home with Nicholas and Peter. I was hoping it wouldn't be too chaotic. When I arrived, Nicholas was sitting in his high chair eating his dinner, quieter than I have ever seen him. "He has never behaved better as long as I have known him," Jason said. "Seriously. No issues." Within five minutes, Nicholas was clinging to my leg as I walked across the living room, whining, begging me to read him a book. I've heard this same story from countless moms. They don't start whining or being super needy until you walk in the door, and then it's as though they haven't had a sippy cup in years...
Peter got his first tooth this week, and I'm so grateful that it was discovered 1) on a memorable date: 9-9-09, and 2) by my mother in-law who can now buy him shoes. (Just kidding, Mom! His feet are way too fat for shoes, anyway!)
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