That’s one thing I do not like about working full-time outside of the home: the weekend sometimes feels like the ferry is leaving or the drawbridge is lifting or something. This was one of those: gifted with a free weekend thanks to houseguests cancelling, we were all set to both relax and plow through projects (I know; contradictory).
But a bout of stomach flu on Friday evening (my son, my son… he walked up to me and said “Mummy, my tummy hurts. Will you please get a bowl for me because I am going to throw up.” I did, and he did. Can you believe it??) and various other things and here we are with things half-done.
So in fine point-form fashion:
I bought a steam mop. It rules. Honestly.
Health: still lousy, but improving lousy. I think we’re agreed that it’s some Mysterious Unknown Ailment unless the ultrasound & swallow study turn something up. More on this another time.
The tastemaker high ended with the usual rush of stuff, two magazines folding abruptly due to the Canadian market, and a fashion event that left me feeling like a complete idiot. So much for the educational value of Project Runway.
Scary yuppy cuteness: Noah and I are playing with a Playmobil cash register which he uses as his own (he has a bigger one but likes the tiny one for whatever reason). He sells me cake. Then he sells me something I can’t quite make out, so I say “pardon me?” and he clarifies very slowly for his poor old mom: Can-I-get-you-a-grande-latte-extra-shot?
And yes, we are in the age of early imagination, where everything is a game. I find the roles interesting. He is a mummy and I am a baby. He is not yet ever a daddy. When he is Lightning McQueen (thanks, Pixar) I am Doc Hudson. Mostly however we are a wide variety of animals: dolphins, cats, rabbits (where we must be scared of owls), and wolves. Lynn likes the wolves.
