IZ’s sister, who lives in the Philippines, was visiting PDX this weekend–so we made another trip into the city to see her. She’s headed home in August and won’t be back for a few years, so this was our chance to see her one last time.
And of course, we couldn’t refuse the opportunity to snuggle with our babies again. So, family party it was.
For the record, I’m not the only one smitten with a certain blond haired cherub! Barbara has her uncle IZ wrapped around her little finger. We took the opportunity of going into the city again to stop by a few Goodwills to see if I could find any more vintage slips for Mireio. And at the first one, he found this broken down kitchen toy he was convinced she needed. It was so large and missing bits, I wasn’t convinced. “I don’t know, I don’t think you can bring a toy THAT large without getting into trouble. And it’s trashed! Your sister would kill you!”
He wasn’t pleased. “That’s fine, I have 2 more Goodwills to go.”
Sure enough, he found another play kitchen at the next Goodwill. Only this one was in nearly perfect condition–including a cute little window that opens. It was twice the size of the broken down toy he left behind.
“This one? She has to have this one.”
“Ok! But, it stays in the car until you tell your sister that you just bought a HUGE kitchen set for her grandchild and that she gets to keep it at her house. This is on YOU. Auntie Wende had nothing to do with it.”
(Oh, yeah, I’ll totally abandon the ship here. He’s on his OWN!)
“Except you’re paying for it.”
“Shush. And stick with the story.”
Of course his sister couldn’t care less that IZ just hauled a toy the size of a piece of furniture into her house. I kid you not, we barely fit it into our SUV. But once we all got a glimpse of Barbara playing with her new kitchen, it was a done deal. She was over the moon. And IZ gloated all day. “SEE!”
At some point in the day, his sister asked him if he wanted another baby. If WE wanted another baby.
In truth, we’re past it. At 44, our days of sleepless nights and sippy cups are long past us. And grand babies are a LONG way down the road. Do you even know the odds of our having grandchildren before we’re 60? Ask my mathematician son, he’ll tell you they’re not good!
But it’s lovely to be able to practice. To be indulgent and buy ridiculously large kitchen sets and soccer balls and pretty clothes for babies we adore. No, they’re not our grandchildren– but our niece doesn’t seem to mind letting us pretend.
And so, we’re practicing.
Wearing: a top knot and lipstick. I can’t be bothered with much more on these balmy days. The weather here has been absolutely magnificent… especially for a June. And July is promising more beauty. For me, that means spending as little time on tedious things (like my eyebrows, um…what’s up with those?) and more time walking on the riverfront. But, I’m still a girl. And that means (for me at least) lipstick.
Watching: World Cup. Does that really require more of an explanation? I love this tournament so much. I don’t even mind the people who watch for all the wrong reasons or clamor on at the last minute in the fever pitch that is the “I believe that we will win” campaign. Everybody is welcome. It’s World Cup, the greatest sporting event on the planet. The beautiful game makes me weepy.
However, smack talk about my side and it’s grounds for divorce. I’m in utter denial, but Suarez didn’t bite Chiellini.
No he didn’t. — No. He. Did. Not. Dang it, Suarez… why did you go and bite that guy?
Wondering: I could figure out why this winter’s 15lbs is sticking around despite my walking regime of 30+ miles a week. It’s just hanging around — my MIDDLE — having a convention. Go home, winter weight. You’re drunk.
Wishing: really… not much else. Life is good.
What’s on your “Currently” list?
Not really sure why some photos I upload from my iPad are displaying wonky when viewed on mobile. They just are. And a quick google search suggests that I’m not alone and this has been a known problem since ’11. Wordpress is “working on it.”
I am, however, not working on it. So, there are a few posts below with funky layouts–if you’re looking at them on mobile. And so they’re going to stay–eventually, they’ll get buried. Right?
So, yes… I’m aware.
But, no… not too motivated to go edit old posts. Ok, so I edited the most recent posts on the front page. Page 2 will have to fend for itself.
Last week IZ whisked me off to Cannon Beach for 2 nights. It was lovely. It’s been ages (since our son was 6?) since we’ve been alone in a hotel room together. We’ve just not had people in our world to leave our child with. The few times we did, when Geo was younger, we would come home to be inundated with tales of how “hard” it was for the caregiver. Stream of consciousness complaint, right as we hit the door. Sigh.
Nothing spoils that getaway zen like coming home to kid angst. Sure, I get it: he was a handful– kinda why his parents needed a little R&R, right? Your two days of dealing with a high energy kid hardly trumps my day to day existence. But, thanks for reminding me.
After the last get away, I looked at IZ and said, “I’m not going away until it’s no longer abuse to leave my kid on his own. And remind me to keep my mouth shut when I find myself in this situation with my own grandchildren!”
So, we traveled with the kid. Everywhere. And that wasn’t a bad thing. We’re a happy trio, we enjoy exploring together. It can be fun and exciting and worthwhile.
What it is not, is romantic. Children have a sixth sense about romance: the minute you start to get frisky or intimate, you’ll find you’re not alone by a long shot. (A related aside, how people co-sleep with toddlers is beyond me!) Little eyes are on you. Little bodies step between you. Little voices want attention. Excuse me, I was talking to your dad!
And it’s all good, because that’s the beauty of parenting. Sex is overrated, right? Half consumed coffee, unfinished conversations, is that glass of wine for me? Exhaustion and missing showers is the norm, the beautiful, glorious, norm.
I wouldn’t trade those days. But I won’t lie, the benefits to having college aged children are starting to dawn on me.
One of those benefits is that it isn’t abuse to leave them on their own! It’s not only NOT abuse, it’s easy. Granted, we were 40 minutes down the road, but I was more concerned over how the dog would fair than how the kid was getting on. (she has dementia and needs her routine!) Other than a few instant messages to check in on how the dog was doing, my child wasn’t on my mind. Instead, this beautiful man and I spent the time reconnecting. Dreaming and laughing and remembering what it was like when it was just us.
For the record, the world did not come to an end. The house wasn’t trashed, our son got himself to and from school without any mishaps, and the dog met us at the door and seemed completely unconcerned that we’d gone missing for 2 days.
And taped to the front door when we arrived was this:
I’m liking what’s on the horizon.