This week since we’ve been back from the beach kind of sucked. Except I can’t really pinpoint why. Probably because we’re not at the beach?
I don’t like to write about days that don’t go well. I want this blog to be something I’ll want to read years from now and reminisce. But that wouldn’t be the whole story now, would it? Right.
So what happened this week other than us not being at the beach?
On Tuesday morning Julian tripped and fell, hitting his head on an edge. He screamed, and I immediately knew he was hurt. 5 seconds later he had a huge egg on his forehead, and then it started bleeding. So off we went to see our pediatrician, who – conveniently – was on vacation. At the beach, probably. See a pattern? Anyway, another nice, competent doctor taped him up (no stitches!) and we all went home to watch TV and eat lollipops.
Other than that I’ve had a babysitter who cancelled the one morning I have her so I can shop in peace, run errands, and maybe maybe read my book, Jeff had to work late, and we didn’t get to see many friends (or adult people for me to talk to) this week.
We did see our sweet friend Eloise on Tuesday. Eloise’s mom asked me if I wanted anything when we first got there…coffee, tea, water, beer, wine? BEER? No one has ever offered me a beer on a playdate. And so we drank beer as we watched our children play/destroy her place. It was divine.
I’ve just had very little patience this week, and there has been lots of whining. And lots of demands. Look at me! Play with me! I need want must have this! Play with me some more! I want this NOW! Talk talk talk all the glorious time.
Meanwhile, my other kid pulls stunts like this one:
And lastly, I’ve been surprisingly sad about Robin William’s passing. I never partake in public Facebook grief and such (not that there is anything wrong with it!), but his death totally made me cry on several occasions. Because when I let my mind take me to where I think his mind was, what despair a person must feel who is so loved and admired, who has family and so many successes, to think about the torment he must have felt that made the simple (or not so simple) task of living unbearable. I feel weird even writing about it, because in a sense I feel like I am not entitled to be sad about his death because I didn’t even know the man. But I can’t help but feel how I feel.
Anyway. It’s Friday. I’m ready to leave this week behind and head to the diner with our friends to stuff our faces with pancakes.