flash updates
I am in shell-shock from a tense and busy week jam-packed with meetings, appointments, and events, including two birthday parties for the Kinglet who is Four and fifty-one fifty-seconds years old (yes, this is how we break it down in Tairn Gire land).
I thought I wanted to blog about the parties but apparently I don't really but richlayers is disappointed so I'll sum up: Thursday was a party at the Chick-fil-A for the Kinglet's preschool friends. Only 1/3 of the class could make it and one of those didn't show up, so it was whittled down to four kids plus mine, but it turned out just fine anyway. I exchanged numbers with one of the moms for potential summer play-dates, and the God-King spent the entire party talking to the only other guy there, a dad who is apparently even more rapidly into War Hammer and AD&D as my husband, and who also has an extensive weapon collection and plays war games with his son. So potentially I will set up play-dates for both the boys AND the dads.
I am happy at the idea of finding playmates that my boy can be a boy with, with me not having to cringe at every smackdown or scraped knee, as I'm getting really tired of that act.
Sunday party was a family and friends gathering at our house. This one didn't go so well for me - I was in an ill-mood and spent the whole time bouncing around like a pin-ball trying to attend to a hundred little emergencies, but the Kinglet winded up having a blast and going to bed exhausted/happy/silly...
... and then waking up at 3AM with a sick tummy and a fever. So much for the second to last day of school and my second to last coffee-office session.
Since the pukey-ness was mostly blue frosting (and as this is becoming an after-party tradition), we assumed he's just over-stimulated and needs a day to recover. However, I spotted four little pink bumps that weren't there last time I looked. He says they don't itch, so maybe they're just, like, old mosquito bites? Here's hoping...
In other news, we went to a wedding Saturday. We spent an unnecessary amount of money (and stress) putting together nice clothes to wear, since the last time I bought a new fancy dress was for my brother's funeral four years ago. I ended up with a tight, black, backless number with silver beading on the straps and under the bosom. It's so tight, in fact, that I could not wear a strap of clothing underneath, which led to quite a bit of apprehension on my part. I spent an entire evening trying on various kinds of support garments - an exercise in self-torture I will never put myself through again. In the end (and with some racy girl-power facebook status updates) I worked up the nerve to go as Mother Gaia made me, felt great, and had a fabulous time.
The God-King, for his part, bought a new dress shirt and tie and shiny shoes and looked so Gee-Que it made my ovaries hurt. My goodness, I married well.
But then he got all existential on the two-hour ride home down side-streets of bumblefuck, Maryland, so that was kind of a buzz-kill.
But anyway.
I am looking forward to a week where I have very little to do, so really this whole "sick kid" thing isn't as upsetting as it could be. It's a good excuse to not change out of my nightgown or clean dishes or wash my hair or any damned thing all day. The only downside is instead of using the time to work on my novel, I've been going back and forth on the wording of blog entries that apparently needed to be written first. Now it's after eight and there will be some Dr. Who up in our evening.
But, still. There's always tomorrow.
One more coffee office left before the world ends. Wish me luck...
I thought I wanted to blog about the parties but apparently I don't really but richlayers is disappointed so I'll sum up: Thursday was a party at the Chick-fil-A for the Kinglet's preschool friends. Only 1/3 of the class could make it and one of those didn't show up, so it was whittled down to four kids plus mine, but it turned out just fine anyway. I exchanged numbers with one of the moms for potential summer play-dates, and the God-King spent the entire party talking to the only other guy there, a dad who is apparently even more rapidly into War Hammer and AD&D as my husband, and who also has an extensive weapon collection and plays war games with his son. So potentially I will set up play-dates for both the boys AND the dads.
I am happy at the idea of finding playmates that my boy can be a boy with, with me not having to cringe at every smackdown or scraped knee, as I'm getting really tired of that act.
Sunday party was a family and friends gathering at our house. This one didn't go so well for me - I was in an ill-mood and spent the whole time bouncing around like a pin-ball trying to attend to a hundred little emergencies, but the Kinglet winded up having a blast and going to bed exhausted/happy/silly...
... and then waking up at 3AM with a sick tummy and a fever. So much for the second to last day of school and my second to last coffee-office session.
Since the pukey-ness was mostly blue frosting (and as this is becoming an after-party tradition), we assumed he's just over-stimulated and needs a day to recover. However, I spotted four little pink bumps that weren't there last time I looked. He says they don't itch, so maybe they're just, like, old mosquito bites? Here's hoping...
In other news, we went to a wedding Saturday. We spent an unnecessary amount of money (and stress) putting together nice clothes to wear, since the last time I bought a new fancy dress was for my brother's funeral four years ago. I ended up with a tight, black, backless number with silver beading on the straps and under the bosom. It's so tight, in fact, that I could not wear a strap of clothing underneath, which led to quite a bit of apprehension on my part. I spent an entire evening trying on various kinds of support garments - an exercise in self-torture I will never put myself through again. In the end (and with some racy girl-power facebook status updates) I worked up the nerve to go as Mother Gaia made me, felt great, and had a fabulous time.
The God-King, for his part, bought a new dress shirt and tie and shiny shoes and looked so Gee-Que it made my ovaries hurt. My goodness, I married well.
But then he got all existential on the two-hour ride home down side-streets of bumblefuck, Maryland, so that was kind of a buzz-kill.
But anyway.
I am looking forward to a week where I have very little to do, so really this whole "sick kid" thing isn't as upsetting as it could be. It's a good excuse to not change out of my nightgown or clean dishes or wash my hair or any damned thing all day. The only downside is instead of using the time to work on my novel, I've been going back and forth on the wording of blog entries that apparently needed to be written first. Now it's after eight and there will be some Dr. Who up in our evening.
But, still. There's always tomorrow.
One more coffee office left before the world ends. Wish me luck...