Amazingly, in the span of yesterday before making it to school by three, I wrote an essay and sold an essay and sort of caught up on correspondence, got an assignment for a story, did the interview—and grabbed a workout.
I felt a bit giddy, even.
The Thursdays I pick up at school (every other) are convivial, with the friendly mush of people doing the same and the three kids in the car and the major cookie eating of the friends’ kids and these days, of course the yo-yo-ing. The fourth grader was all about yo-yo class yesterday and getting his new yo-yo and trying to pass the next level. He was a bit giddy, to be honest over the yo-yo excitement.
Also, they’d gone—the entire school—to see Ladysmith Black Mambazo perform. My guy deemed the concert “amazing,” and “the best concert I’ll ever see. When would I ever get a chance like that again?”
His future is bright, hey?
A Thursday when the dear husband is out of town as he was last night becomes a mad dash of drop-offs and pick-ups, though. I had to pick up dinner, too because I had to get cider (one stop, purple Tootsie pop essential, too, since we were there) and make muffins (about all I could manage, barely, with the drop-offs and such and the small girl in tow). I didn’t have to be responsible for every pick-up it turned out—and still the muffins didn’t get finished baking until 10:36 PM.
And had to finish with the kitchen cleaning and tidy up and somehow hadn’t eaten dinner yet myself until that last batch was in the oven. The little girl didn’t fall asleep until 9:36 PM. We were lights out by 8:10 PM. You can only imagine how I felt by 9:19 PM when I emailed the dear but absent husband.
An oldie but goodie of sleeping girl
He may not return until evening tonight, but I will cook dinner. At least, my hope is to cook dinner.
The early evening yielded this wonderful conversation, though.
Saskia: “Did you know that boys can marry boys and girls can marry girls?”
Me: “I did know that.”
Saskia: “So why did you marry a boy?”
Me: “I didn’t really think about whether I wanted to marry a girl or a boy; I met your papa and he was the person I loved and wanted to marry, so I married him.”
Finally, I was asleep by just after midnight—delayed by a quick, teary change of soaked girl in my bed (but somehow she didn’t soak my bed or even dampen it) change.
At 4:52 AM I was awoken by the sound of the ten year-old boy’s new yo-yo falling on the floor by my bed.
Days with four kids are long. That may be the most brilliant yet profound takeaway of Thursday.
