All in a days time

Days fire past me in rapid pace, sometimes I feel like I, alone, am working in slow motion, while life around me bolts along at neck-breaking speeds. I regularly imagine myself walking through molasses, working really hard...just not getting there as fast as I should. Such is life.

Recap of the day, Arlo slept in our bed, requiring me to take him to school this morning (which is usually Andy's job, since he drives right past it at exactly the right time on his way to work....). The boy needs me so fiercely.

Since I was heading out, 25 minutes after rousing, thought it would be a fantastic idea to gather the other two (wake, change, debooger, comb, etc. oh and feed...) and head to the early class at the YMCA this morning. Might as well get my workout in early, imagine how productive I could be after that (SUPERmom-- who never seems to materialize.....)!!

In disbelief that I didn't get a dirty diaper call until I was in the locker room naked, I gleefully dressed half-arsedly and picked up my (stinky-Tirfe, woeful-Aesa) kiddies. Headed to lunch at a bagel shop before our next outing.

Dragging uber-tired Tirfe along in a very tight and nearly abusive snowsuit, we joined Arlo at school (as promised in the wee hours of the morning when I was trying to weasle a couple more minutes of sleep out of him) for recess. It was really, really, really cold. Holy smokes, I am so not ready for whipping winds and cold. WHY do I do this to myself. I imagine it has to do with being insane. Has to. And if it does, I might as well own it and act proud of my nordic roots. Yargh. It was cold. Arlo had a hard time with the older boys who wouldn't share shovels. It's really hard to be the little guy sometimes. Lessons aplenty, but some tough knocks for a dude with only 5 years of experience.

Frozen, we head home after recess to atempt naps. No body bites. Rascals.

Back to get Arlo at 3pm, we head to Nana's to lay Tirfe down for a nap while Aesa plays and Arlo and I run some errands. Errands turn into dinner out together. Super chill, really relaxing. We are in one of our favorite restaraunts, seated right in front of the chef. The entire kitchen is open, Arlo is mesmerized. He tells the the chef is cool. He wants to work there, washing dishes for now, until he is old enough to cook with fire. He follows the chef into the bathroom and manages to order more pasta for himself while he is in there. They revel in their shared love of Bob Marley. Arlo wants to be a chef when he grows up. Hopefully the partner of the chef who served us tonight.

We head to Nana's to pick up the wee-est ones and spend a bit of play time. Aesa is a tired mess. Arlo is coming unraveled. Balloons are blown up and we manage to piece together a decent amount of fun time. Until Aesa bites it trying to run for a balloon and spits his chin on the coffee table. Poor dude.

I start loading kids (Andy is at sweat all night on Fridays...and has Tai Chi on Thursdays until late, so we are pretty frazzeled at the end of the week) littlest to biggest. Arlo bucks departure, as sometimes happens. He is not the master of transitions, not yet. After a couple extra chances to jump off the steps and show off his moves, he still protests leaving, and of course I trudge on, explaining why. He is upset, mad, defiant. He wants a new mom. Not a new Dad though. I can marry someone else, live with them and have new kids. He's staying put with Dad. This boy, who needs me so fiercely, my emotional, passonite little man- pushes me farthest when he needs me the most. His behavior towards me reflects very accurately his personal struggles, right now mostly from school. It's hard to learn how to fend for yourself and to hold all those feelings inside when you want to yell that no one is sharing. It is hard for a passonite, emotional child to balance the desire to fit in with the desire to be heard. I told him his new mom might make him eat vegetables, but he's pretty sure she won't. Hopefully tomorrow will be more 'Don't Worry 'bout a thing' and less of the rest. We'll see. Parenting this boy is such a blessing. I just hope that his teen years won't equate to his preschool years to the tenth power. please?

Oh, in the action at some point Arlo did moon me and Aesa. Really. Mooned us, appropriately (not to say it is appropriate, but his timing and execution were precise!!). He says he learned it on a cartoon. Really? Sometimes you just have to laugh, when your children are not looking... Uff da.