Today really started last night when I stayed up far too late fretting (long story related to one of Damian's floor time therapists who almost definitely has to be replaced after two years and a complex history) and then had to rush out of the house super early to go to an elementary school open house (not to mention getting lost on the way with, of course, no map in the car, because that would just be too easy) and stay just long enough to get a flavor of the place and try to imagine Damian there before hauling my ass back to the car to fly across town to an interesting but not easy floor time clinic meeting and when that was over, fly out of there to grab some food and pretend to work on my novel while really obsessing about everything that kept me awake last night (not to mention what the fuck we’re going to do about kindergarten next year), but that was just a short pause in my day because from there I had to run back to school to pick Damian up and then off to a supermarket with him in tow (following the inevitable discussion about just which store we should go to, because there are three Whole Foods between school and home and they each have their kid-related merits, which is of course why we ended up at a Bristol Farms) and then finally back home to put groceries away but first of necessity empty out the various strange objects from the fridge that used to be delectable foodstuffs but had mysteriously congealed into fragrant, strangely textured science experiments while we were off playing in Cambria over the long weekend, but finishing that delightful project didn’t mean I could rest because I’d promised Damian we’d play a game so then it was off to Damian’s bedroom to pretend the place was a toy store with two super-friendly (hungry) cats so we could purchase toys he already owns and then it was time to make dinner and sit down at the table to eat only to get up again after one bite and cuddle on the couch because Damian was having an emotional crisis about the fact that it was now night and therefore it would soon be bedtime and he would be lonely and sad lying in his bed all by himself, never mind that it’s been that way (and been just fine) for most of his five and a half years and that we never kick him out of our bed if he comes padding down the hall in the middle of the night, but his feelings are closer to the surface these days and lonely is a mighty powerful emotion and then of course it was time for a bath, only not mine (can I have one now, with lots of Epsom salts and candles, please?) but his, complete with froggy game and more unexpected tears which only truly resolved when Daddy got home and we could all three talk through what to do about bedtime and how to help Damian feel better and only then, when Damian felt satisfied and tearless and Dan was ensconced bathside, could I escape to the bedroom and get on the computer and hear myself think, not that I have any thoughts left in my overcooked cream-of-wheat of a brain.
Tired? Flattened.
Posted by Tamar at December 2, 2003 09:19 PM