Saturday, November 10, 2007

Raking, Thai food

Lots of raking today -- I heard you gleefully rushing through leaves, helping dad. There was a short, successful trip to the local farm store where you picked up your very own little rake.

After a long, late nap, you woke in the dark, slightly confused. I assured you that it was still, technically, day time. We discussed a jaunt for dinner. I was craving Thai food; I'd heard about a new restaurant down the road I wanted to try. You were fine with going there, as long as you could have "plain rice, plain chicken, and plain peas." We loving eating at Thai places because there is (almost) a zero percent chance of dairy cross-contamination. Maybe we should move to Thailand! The restaurant is beautiful -- lots of Buddha statues -- and the menu was just different enough. The house specialties were refreshing. They had all of the plain items you requested; we didn't have to Frankenstein your food, as we usually need to do. After a leisurely meal (you were eating rice long after we were finished), we came home without incident. You were saying goodbye to people we met -- your pink glasses and shiny personality were a hit!

Should I mention bedtime? Do I have to? Jesus. It's rough sometimes, and it's been especially challenging lately. You want to have more independence, so we give it to you. And then you start pushing my buttons. I know you are doing certain things to bug me and I really don't want to be bothered. I'm the mature one, right? But when you are pushing off your blankets and saying (in the dark), "my legs aren't under the covers," and "my head isn't on the pillow," and "I'm going to take my pants off," steam begins escaping from my ears. To save my sanity and show you your behavior doesn't bother me, I say, "fine, I hope you don't get cold -- goodnight," but inside I desperately want to locate a king-sized comforter so I can tuck you in good and tight; I want you to remain covered and comfortable for the night without the drama.

My eyes want to close with all of this talk of sleep. Tomorrow is a big day -- there's a birthday party and, after that, we hope to see Sesame Street's "Gordon" at Wordstock. Maybe he has some advice for us -- after all, he played a major role in potty training you via the Elmo's Potty Time DVD.


Carly said...

You're still writing! How wonderful to come across you again. Looks like your little Lucy is doing wonderfully, as is mine ; )


Carly said...

ps -- found you via NaBloPoMo...