A new friend, tantrums, groceries, and gin. And there ya have it.
The boyz and I met Mrs. Chicky and Chicky Baby for a playdate this morning. I recognized Chicky Baby instantly on the playground. The cutest little peanut towhead ya ever saw. And Momma wasn't so bad herself (stylish, unassuming, nice--she offered me her jacket! Because it was cool and breezy at the playground. Silly me was wearing a tank top and shorts.) I was actually just happy I remembered to brush my teeth before we left the house, nevermind wearing weather appropriate clothing. And I think, in my incessant chatter, that I may have admitted to not showering. Who says that to someone they've just met? Uh, me. So we made a good pair, Mrs. Chicky and I. She who has admitted that she lets the other person lead the conversation upon first meeting...and I? I tend to be a nervous talker. To not shut up. So it was perfect for both of us. Until Middle somehow got soaked from head to toe in a puddle (no, I wasn't watching him, I was making a new friend! duh) and we had to make a quick exit due to his high-pitched screeching and wailing. But! We're practically neighbors. There will be future tales of Chicky/Trenches get-togethers.
Lunchtime. Baby was tired and cranky. Waking up at 5:45 am will do that to a little guy. Made
This evening after a Pop Warner football pizza party. Grocery shopping. Hubby and I are masochists. Why else would we all go to the grocery store on a Friday night? PLUS, bring along my Niece (whom we were babysitting) for even more fun and confusion. Middle couldn't quite grasp the fact that our dinner was the pizza party. Where we all enjoyed pizza. For dinner. After grocery shopping (in which we spent $75 over our normal weekly budget because you should just NEVER shop with unruly children; it apparently ruins one's concentration on bargain shopping and price checking) Middle kept repeating that he wanted his Creamsicle yogurt "for lunch". Sure Middle, you can have your yogurt for lunch. Tomorrow. Today is done, it's almost bedtime, and you are done eating for the night. Yeah, not so much. It just didn't click for Middle. He kept insisting that he wanted his yogurt "for lunch" but really meaning "right now". Try explaining the concepts of today, tomorrow and yesterday to a barely-3 year old. Along with the notion of breakfast, lunch, dinner. Or maybe just slit your eyeballs with a razor instead. Night, night Middle.
And now? Now I drink gin and enjoy the quiet that is a Friday night In the Trenches.