saturday

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Every morning when I go in to get Norah, after she has stood at the gate in her doorway hollering “mommy, mommy, come get me!” enough times to convince me that on that day, like every other day, she is most definitely not going to just magically climb back into bed and go to sleep, one of the first things she says to me other than “Norah’s awake.” (thanks princess obvious) is “today’s not a work day?” And since during a standard week five out of seven times the answer to that question is that it is indeed a work day, my heart sinks a little bit every morning on most days. She then says “but you’re not going to work yet?” to which I reply “no, not yet, we can hang out while I get ready.” If it’s later in the week I tell her how many days are left until the weekend when mommy gets to stay home for two whole days, and so goes our current routine. Which is all to say that Saturdays are so important to us so I thought why not recap this Saturday in Elderland…

Around 5:50 AM I heard the call of the bear from down the hall and cringed a little at the absurdly early hour, but also felt pretty confident that I could get her to go back to sleep. I think 6 is actually the breaking point for her. If it’s before 6, even though she clearly can’t tell time, I can convince her that it’s not time to get up yet and tuck her back in which will hold for anywhere from 30 – 90 more minutes. After 6, forget it. She knows and “Norah’s awake” is steadfastly declared in a way that says don’t even think about trying to put me back in bed. So yay 5:50! She went back to sleep and so did I, and the next time I heard anything from her it was 7:30–that’s major sleeping in around here. At that fine hour I much more cheerily hopped out of bed and went to her room to find that she had taken off her night time diaper, wiped herself, and put on her swim outfit. “Can we go at the pool now?” Pete had told her on Friday evening that we “might” go to the pool over the weekend and that girl doesn’t forget a thing nor does she understand the word “might.” So I explained to her that we had a good few hours before pool time which she accepted with little drama but insisted on keeping her swim outfit on even though it’s damn cold in our house and I’m still bitching with pants, slippers and a hoodie that I’m not quite warm enough. Crosby and Pete woke up around this time as well and we went about our normal Saturday morning routine of eating breakfast, hanging out in the kitchen, and planning our day.

After Crosby’s morning nap we loaded everyone and of all our crap into the car to head to the Triangle Sportsplex. It’s mighty nice to have an indoor pool 15 or so minutes down the road for days when it’s annoyingly frigid outside and your 2.5 year old doesn’t understand why we can’t spend the whole day playing at the park. As soon as I sat down in my seat and looked up at the windshield I blurted out some string of obscenities because there in front of me was a giant crack. I knew a rock or something had hit it the night before on the way home from work, but of course there was no crack when I went to bed and of course I didn’t try to find some late night glass service to get it before it was too late and of course now it’s too late. I can’t count the number of windshields Pete and I have seen destroyed by wayward road ricochets and now my pretty newish car, the first newish car we’ve had in almost 10 years, is horribly blemished. Pete still believes we might be able to have it repaired, but I’ve accepted defeat and will now just see how long I can deal with staring at this maddening fissure before I crack (PUN!) and spend the money to have the windshield replaced.

Anyway! The pool was super fun. Crosby and Norah both love being in the water and the four of us, plus some random 4 year old named Sofia whose dad weirdly dropped her off and then went to swim laps (sure, we’ll watch her for you?), spent the whole time wading around the kiddie pool, playing with Norah’s pink inflatable boat and splashing and kicking and just having a grand ol’ summer style time on a winter day. Once home, it was time for mommy and daddy to attend to separate activities–Pete headed over to our friend’s house to work on the door for the dining room to Crosby’s room conversion (another post, I swear I’ll write it) and I solicited babysitting help from my mom so I could get in a chilly 8 mile run (half marathon in June!). Norah and Crosby both took two hour plus naps (WHAT?!) and then we were all back together again and it was time for everyone to get clean.

Norah, who absolutely loves playing in water in any way she can get it, is typically a huge fan of the shower and so Pete and I both often take her in with us. Being that she’d doused herself in chlorine earlier that day it was necessary that a shower happen at some point before bed and so as Pete prepared to take one himself I began to also ready Norah. Unfortunately, for some unexplained reason that also explains any number of other irrational behaviors our favorite toddler exhibits, Norah decided that she was absolutely, positively 100% against taking a shower at that time and proceeded to scream her pretty little head off as though standing under that stream of water was the greatest torture she’d ever experienced. As parents we’re not keen on giving in to tantrums and as I stated previously that shower was necessary, so through her wales of crazy Pete proceeded with scrubbing her down. Crosby too was in need of cleansing and I undressed him while waiting for Norah’s torture to be over. Once done, she stepped up out of the shower bin and onto the tile step, still balling, and I handed nakie baby to Pete. And then, I kid you not, as soon as Crosby was completely transfered from my hands to his, Norah ceased her sobfest and said in the calmest voice possible “I want to shower again.” Shutthefuckup.

For dinner we treated Grandma to some La Fiesta which went smashingly well in terms of multi-kid restaurant experiences and then it was off to bed for all of us after one super great Saturday.

Sunday rocked too. Booo for the weekend being over. Elderland out! XO.

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