Friday Playdate » Blog Archive » no cupcakes, just tiramisu

For the second day in a row, I have pickled myself in strong strong coffee and it’s not pretty. I’m feeling a little like someone replaced my brain with tiramisu, which strangely enough I don’t really like. To gooey for me.

No, I don’t really have a point. What makes you ask?

Today was a good day, despite feeling like I had a head full of espresso-soaked madeleines. I had coffee with Christa and we saw John Paul Merrit going in to get HIS coffee, which made us giggle. I finished my Mystery Project, which is good because my ass was starting to look like the seat of our desk chair. I started laundry, which until RIGHT THIS SECOND I had completely forgotten about.

Remind me to go finish that laundry, would you? You’re a pal.

Eventually I pried my pickled ass off the desk chair and went to get the boys at school. Either I was really early or every single class at Charlie’s school was running late today; either way, I was kind of freaked out because I got to the gym and NO ONE WAS THERE, no kids, no parents, NO ONE except the Cranky Cafeteria Lady, who kept glaring at me, and I wasn’t sure what time it was because I had taken my watch off and left it at home but I just KNEW we would be late to get Henry and I hate to be late. So I was hyperventillating a little.

Just a little. Maybe it was the coffee. Or the laundry. REMIND ME TO FINISH THE LAUNDRY.

Eventually Charlie’s class came filing down the hall with their little bags, in a nice line. Every day when Charlie comes in the gym and sees me, he starts waving and waving. He has this HUGE smile on his face, and he waves and waves at me while he goes to sit down and wait to be dismissed. And then, when Mrs. H says, “Charlie, you may go,” he runs over and jumps into my arms and says, “HI, MAMA!” and starts making Cute Charlie Noises (which sound very much like a happy kitten).

It’s my favorite part of Charlie’s day.

Today, instead of just dismissing him from his seat on the floor, Mrs. H held out her hand and lead him over to where I was standing. She was walking toward me holding his little hand and he was smiling and waving and I thought oh shit he’s in trouble what did he do oh god I hope he wasn’t swearing at school dammit I bet he was swearing oh my god I think I’m going to throw up on her shoes oh my god oh my god oh my god . . .

Mrs. H walks up to me, puts her hand on my arm, looks me straight in the eye and says, “Charlie is a delight. He’s just wonderful to have in class.” She said some other nice things, but by then I was so relieved that Charlie wasn’t being expelled that I can’t really remember them. I could have kissed her.

I looked down and Charlie was hugging my legs and smiling up at me and saying, “Hi, Mama!” in his little baby voice. If he had asked for a Porsche or a pony or a life-sized R2D2 toy, right at that moment, I totally would have bought it for him. Or I would have tried, although we’re still not sure what the hell is going on with our checking account.

And now I have to go put some laundry in the dryer, before I forget. Again.

14 Comments so far

Oh, super congrats on completing the Mystery Project!

Did you also BUY A FRAKKING PLANE TICKET?

Oh, go do your laundry, don’t forget!

The little kitten noises are the best.

It takes me at least 3 trips to the kitchen or laundry room and back before I remember what I set out to do in the first place.

I was so hoping you like tiramisu. I was going to ask you which of the mixes are any good. They’re all expensive and I haven’t seen the real thing since I left San Francisco.

Oh, you’re good. I would have thrown up on her shoes before she had the chance to tell me all the nice stuff.

Good job on the top-secret mystery project. And on the laundry. Both nice accomplishments. One more immediately rewarding, one for the long-term. That was good planning.

And here I was hoping that my laundry would just do itself if I ignored it long enough.

What a great teacher Charlie must have! The teachers who take the time out to tell you the positive comments are the ones who are going the extra mile, it is always easier to tell the negative comments. Kudos to a great teacher and to Charlie for inspiring her to brag!

Yay Charlie! Sophie’s teacher called me the other day to tell me how much she enjoys having Sophie in the class, that she’s quite mature for her age, and she’s never seen another six-year-old with her depth of empathy.

I was SO thrilled.

Do your laundry. And while you’re at it, remind me to do mine.

Wait. You’re not supposed to just leave the laundry in great heaping mounds on the floor of the bedroom? I’m confused.

I love this!

Oh and don’t forget to finish…um…refinish the floors…or something?

It’s the little things that we turn into big things that make life a joy.

Oh, Mir, I only WISH the laundry had made it to the great big heap on the bedroom floor.

Because I JUST NOW REALIZED (it’s 9:25 on Thursday morning) that one load is STILL IN THE WASHING MACHING.

Eeeew. And ick. And dammit.

Does it make you feel any better to know that I am re-washing the sheets that I forgot to put in the dryer last night?

P.S. Go do your laundry.

Good for Charlie!! He rocks.

What a great teacher. Not only does she seem to know what Charlie needs, but you too! Now thats a teacher.

I don’t mind switching the laundry around, its just the excessive folding, hanging and putting it away that I really hate. I’ll switch the clothes for you, if you fold mine…

Charlie’s just wonderful. My 2-year-old has just started doing the baby voice and it melts my heart. I call her GooGoo Baby and she lies in my lap and talks in a baby voice. I think it has something to do with me being pregnant, but I don’t care.

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