Since the trip to the library:
- We made it to preschool, finally, after a professional day, a stat holiday and a Barf Day, all of which added up to a long ten (thousand!) days of no school. Children are social creatures who need peer support, I learned again, for the eightieth time.
- Oh god — summer vacation is two weeks away. I need more five year olds, stat. And a field.
- We made it to a playdate at a friend’s house, after having to cancel for Barf Day last week. Four children who are nearly exactly the same age as each other (two of each age, plus one incredibly adorable infant who, sorry, will be unmatched by another child of mine) played delightfully together and it made me want to move into their house but I won’t because there isn’t any room for me and the little girl (age 3) told me I couldn’t sleep on their porch swing because ‘it wasn’t a bed.’ Three year olds! So RIGID!
- We made it to gymnastics on Thursday afternoon. Trombone has been taking gymnastics for almost 10 weeks and he has loved it. There is tumbling and trampolining and an hour’s worth of jumping around. But two weeks ago, we went to gymnastics after a full day of IKEA and meatballs for lunch and *verylittle resting* and then a run through the park. Five minutes after I dropped him off in the gym, some lady was following me outside because ‘[your] son is crying and doesn’t want to stay.’
Me: What’s the matter?
Trombone, sobbing: I just…don’t have….any ….. energy.
So we left, ate some snacks, played quietly at home and that was that.
This is not the first time he has burst into tears because he feels he lacks energy. And while I understand the compulsion to cry about it (and yes, I understand that he is not-quite-five, also) I don’t get where this is coming from. The previous time that he cried about not having energy was at school in a very small, low-key, supportive ‘hop-a-thon’ to raise money for Muscular Dystrophy and his teacher assured me that there was no life-threatening going on. I believe her. She is a trustworthy sort.
My only other suspect is a tv show called “Bo on the Go,” which features an animated girl named Bo who moves constantly for half an hour and implores her viewers to do the same because, “When you move with me, you give me energy.” Either she is communicating with the children via an inaudible-to-adults frequency and telling them, “If you run out of energy YOU DIE” or else there was an offhand comment made by someone, possibly months ago, to that same effect, ie: you die when your body runs out of energy.
The latter is more likely, though I don’t remember it.
Anyway! On Thursday we conquered Trombone’s fear of going to gymnastics (he missed last week too, because of Barf Day) by having me sit there for the whole hour in case he ran out of energy and expired right there on the floor of the Queen’s Park Arenex.
He did not.
Luckily, SA was home for the first day of his four-day mini-vacation so he stayed home with Fresco and I could sit in the gym, plowing through my novel editing while trying not / to eavesdrop on the moms next to me who were going into very gory details about the public school system and their treatment of gifted children.
- After gymnastics we went to Boston Pizza to celebrate our tenth anniversary. Yes! SA and I have been married for TEN YEARS. TEN. I did not buy him a gift of tin or aluminum, although beer comes in tins, right? Be right back.
We decided to take the kids out for dinner for our anniversary. Because we never take them out for dinner, all week the kids talked about going out for dinner and what kind of pizza they were going to eat –
Trombone: I’m having a pizza with parmesan cheese.
Fresco: I’m having a pizza with grilled cheese cheese cheese (yes, that’s how he says it)
Trombone: You should TRY parmesan. How do you know if you like it if you don’t try it?
Me: *head implodes*
– but when we got there they both ordered chicken strips and fries.
There was WHL hockey on the TV. I felt very suburban, all of a sudden. I drank a caesar. I never do that unless I am in a family restaurant, who knows why.
- On Friday I went shoe-shopping with my mother and we had a very nice lunch. Now is not the time for me to buy shoes, apparently, because I came home with six very fragrant onion bagels from Solly’s. Coincidentally, I got a seat on the skytrain.
- We went to the Burnaby Farmers Market where I bought Crack Granola, which is actually called “Nourish-ola” and made by a local company called Vancouver Natural Gourmets. The woman at the tent gave me a sample and it was so good I immediately wanted more, which is unusual for me and free samples. It is organic, raw granola made from almonds, coconut, pumpkin seeds, figs, and agave. Seriously, you guys.
- Also yesterday, Fresco succumbed to — we think — the same stomach bug that Trombone had. He emptied his guts all morning, took a four (FOUR) (4) hour nap in the afternoon, woke much improved, slept all night and today is pretty much back to his regular self, knock wood, amen.
- Today is the last day of SA’s mini vacation and to celebrate, I sent him shopping for groceries.
- I read that article about the em-dash and reading it made me physically ill. The writer uses the em-dash incorrectly to illustrate that too many people use it incorrectly and concludes that we shouldn’t use it as much. That whole conceit didn’t work for me. Why? Because I think she could have made her point without writing badly.
- PS: –
- PPS: I am all out of energy now.