Things I Did Elsewhere: Week 15 Recap

Lousy weather has afforded me the laziest weekend I have had since I brought this kid home. I have mentioned that three is awesome, and it is. You know what you can do when you have a three year old? You can bring them downstairs when they wake up, get them breakfast, give them some quiet toys and turn on the TV, and then you can snooze on the couch. Sure, there will be frequent wakings as they ask you for stuff and climb on to pretend they're sleeping too, but you're dozing! Note: this assumes your living area is generally kept free from things that could harm a small child.

You guys, I AM SO WELL RESTED!

I got back on track with meal planning over at The Facebook Page. This week's plan includes a whole lot of veggies at my disposal now that the warmer weather has finally come out to play.

I haven't done anything over at The Wine Fund because I've been busy giving interviews to reporters for the Globe and Mail. Oh, and speaking of pregnancy (or lack thereof) after 35, I talked about joining Team Infertility at Circle of Moms, because I think a lot of people think it can't happen to them so while it's small comfort to know you're not alone, it's still some comfort.

And now, I will put my kid to bed, fold my laundry and go to bed early. Because an early bedtime is the perfect way to cap off a lazy weekend. Have a great week!

"That sounds like a good Friday night."

Smoothie Tuesday!

Three is the most fun I have ever had. This kid of mine, she's awesome. She's going to move to a daycare that's within walking distance of our home at the beginning of July. To help with the transition, I instituted Smoothie Tuesdays so that when she starts at the new place, I can do something (now) familiar to her to keep some semblance of sameness. I think it's going pretty well so far...

The Husband is out at a former colleague's house. We were all supposed to go, but I decided I didn't want to go home from downtown, pick up the kid, head back downtown to meet The Husband, trek on public transit out to the other end of the city, at rush hour on a Friday, only to turn around and go back home after an hour for a reasonable bedtime. Damn, was I ever glad I declined when our city's transit woes hit this afternoon!

Besides, I like having my little person all to myself once in a while. In the car I asked if she wanted pizza or noodles for dinner. She requested pizza AND noodles. And french fries. She asked if she could have a story and a cuddle. I said yes, because who the hell could say no to that face? I suggested we have a story and some cuddles on the couch watching a Tinkerbell movie. In the rear view mirror I saw the huge grin as she replied, "That sounds like a good Friday night."

And it was.

Cuffs

See that kid? I know, she's adorable. She's also a bolter. What's a bolter, you ask? Kids that can be at your side peacefully for great lengths of time until "Oh look, something shiny!" and *poof* they're gone. It's terribly inconvenient in a crowd.

See that thing the monkey is trying to get to on her back? It's her ladybug, a.k.a. backpack leash. She loves it because it means she has a freedom to roam the world she doesn't have in a stroller. When your kid is big enough to walk on her own but hasn't yet mastered the fine art of impulse control, I think it's a damn sight better to use a backpack leash than have her, ohidontknow, run headlong into traffic. Many are of the opinion that using a backpack leash is the epitome of lazy parenting. Well, I readily admit to laziness, so THERE! :P

She's gotten a lot better at walking while holding hands, but there's still the problem of "Oh look, something shiny!" And if you don't know she's bending over to look at an ant or something and let go fast enough, she loses her footing and you end up half dragging her for a second. Man, if you thought people judged you harshly for using a backpack leash, you should see the stink eye you get for half dragging your kid across the sidewalk. I feel like a wrist strap with a little give would make this a lot easier until she's old enough to walk on her own. The following conversation took place when I shared this brilliant, multimillion dollar business idea with The Husband:

Me: You know what would be cool? A thing that attached to my wrist and hers but had a little give for when one of us gets distracted.
The Husband: You mean like handcuffs?
Me: No, I don't want to handcuff my kid. I'm thinking like a velcro wrist strap on either end and a cutesy pink string in the middle.
The Husband: So like girly, ineffectual handcuffs?
Me: You know what? You really are an asshole.

Doing the Wednesday

Remember Roseanne? In one episode, Roseanne feared for her marriage because she and Dan missed a couple of Wednesdays. Which is the day they had sex, in case you missed the ever so subtle hints. Recalling that episode may bring about a mental image of Roseanne Barr and John Goodman frolicking naked. Sorry!

Anyway, in the spirit of keeping the marital fires burning, The Husband and I have agreed to disconnect from the digital world after The Parasite goes to bed each Wednesday. We may not spend the evening the same way Roseanne and Dan did, but at least we'll spend it together.

Ever found yourself spending too much time with your partner, but not *really* spending time together? What have you done to keep things fresh amidst so many distractions?

Dispatches from the clinic

When you spend enough time in a fertility clinic, you'll eventually grow to hate the place. In treatment cycles you start every day in the waiting room, after blood work but before ultrasound. Many of the faces are the same, day after day and month after month. We don't acknowledge this familiarity because it's a shitty club that nobody wants to be in, but we take comfort in other clinic veterans. Oh, you're still here too? Glad I'm not the only one.

The newbies are just adorable. They walk in, usually with their partner, beaming and full of hope. They're giddy until they nearly pass out from the bloodletting that accompanies the first visit. Woozy but still smiling they put on a brave face and take wobbly steps to a chair in the waiting room. They have no idea how many hours their ass is going to spend in one of those chairs in the coming weeks and months. We clinic veterans are too jaded to take them under our wing and let them know what lies ahead. They wouldn't believe us anyway.

I'll see you there tomorrow my friends, old and new. Don't be offended when I don't look up from my book. I'm not much for small talk in the morning anyway.