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Rude awakening
Nov. 7th, 2004 07:31 amI have the kids this weekend. Last night, Friday night, I had them for a two day stretch. The following illustrates why I can never plan things ahead of time.
After a hideously busy week at work, I had the afternoon on Friday to decompress. I drank some wine, thank you very much, Susan. I didn't get them until 6:30. Things went moderately well until I realized Tracey had neglected to include overnights for the less toilet-trained among us. I called, and probably with a nasty tone of voice, to ask where these things were. She groaned and said she'd bring them right over, which she does. The kids see her and freak out, crying for her not to leave, and how they wanted to go home with her, and they start crying. All three of them. But it's like it was a little contagious panic attack. She left and I calmed them down. Tracey didn't outwardly do anything to bring it on, but I think their equilibrium was off a little. But they loved my dinner (thank you, God) and we played some games before bed. And they slept right on time. Tonight I managed to lull Robert and Grace in around eight and Viv a little while later. They were all tired from a long day too.
And let's talk about long days, can we? The race started at six-thirty this morning, with Vivian off to an early lead, Robert not too far behind. Grace lasted till 7:30. They were hungry and ate biscuits, biscuit dough (definitely my children), cereal, and almost a tortilla. I deflected Robert on that one. I had us ready to leave the house at 9:00. I then get a call from work, that the power had gone out and the network has having issues. Sure enough, that call was for ME. I was stuck, because I had to deliver half of the every other Saturday 10 am activity. Grace has dance (promptly and on time) at ten. Do not be late, even if you are a struggling father uneducated in the working routines of the Gradeschoolus Cyclonii.
I had to get the kids to Tracey, then run way the hell out to work twenty-two miles away, restart the damned servers, that even now, to this moment, are still pissing me off. Two hours. Came home, picked up two kids, got Viv at half past noon, went home to wait for my mom and dad, which was made even more enjoyable by the presence of my wonderfully warm brother. And oh brother, what a mood he's hovering in. Yoiks. I don't recall the level of pressure Andy is under, but goodness gracious, that's a boy on the edge of anger, a lot of the time.
By three, we were hanging out. A little boy visited my house neighbor and the kids played with him for a few hours. Cute kid, too, looks a lot like the son of a friend of Tracey. They even called the little boy the same name, Max. And Max was not this kid's name. I finally managed to argue the kids inside the house, promising pizza, efficiently delivered in thirty minutes or less. Kids loved it. Rob popped in and ate with us, even bringing ice cream for the kids to munch on. That was very well received, to the point where Robbie told me "Daddy, I like Rob."
I risked a rough return on getting to sleep with the ice cream so late in the evening. But I got them down. Rob and I were left to our own debaucherous interests. Included in the evening were many sessions of feeding (yes, that is my description), checking out Tara Reid's sad exposed breast saga (what the hell did this girl do to herself?), and examining the new trailer for Revenge of the Sith. Basically, we were geeks.
It was getting late when the doorbell suddenly rang to life. It was the neighbor in the house to the right of me, a scaly old bag who wanted me to have Rob scoot his truck up so her husband could park. This ignorant ass rang the hell out of my doorbell at midnight so her equally scaly husband could have the honor of parking right in front of their house. Never mind that there are spaces EVERYWHERE around us, they needed to have this one spot. I was good and pissed, but played the nice neighbor. Rob was not as receptive to the idea, but decided it was time to take off anyway. As we stood on the porch, purposely taking as much time as we could to do the task, we were treated to a speech from the two of them on how cars are always getting broken into and stolen, and how the old lady shot at some men before on three different occasions. Fun stuff. These two idiots have hung a sign on the phone pole by their "spot" that says "Permit Parking Only". My landlord told me that they did that just to get people to park elsewhere. Let her come do that again in the middle of the night, and I won't be a nice neighbor any more. She's lucky she didn't wake up the kids.
Sunday brings an open schedule for us to fill. I'm thinking a leisurely morning and playgrounds in the afternoon. It's nice to have my kids with me again.
After a hideously busy week at work, I had the afternoon on Friday to decompress. I drank some wine, thank you very much, Susan. I didn't get them until 6:30. Things went moderately well until I realized Tracey had neglected to include overnights for the less toilet-trained among us. I called, and probably with a nasty tone of voice, to ask where these things were. She groaned and said she'd bring them right over, which she does. The kids see her and freak out, crying for her not to leave, and how they wanted to go home with her, and they start crying. All three of them. But it's like it was a little contagious panic attack. She left and I calmed them down. Tracey didn't outwardly do anything to bring it on, but I think their equilibrium was off a little. But they loved my dinner (thank you, God) and we played some games before bed. And they slept right on time. Tonight I managed to lull Robert and Grace in around eight and Viv a little while later. They were all tired from a long day too.
And let's talk about long days, can we? The race started at six-thirty this morning, with Vivian off to an early lead, Robert not too far behind. Grace lasted till 7:30. They were hungry and ate biscuits, biscuit dough (definitely my children), cereal, and almost a tortilla. I deflected Robert on that one. I had us ready to leave the house at 9:00. I then get a call from work, that the power had gone out and the network has having issues. Sure enough, that call was for ME. I was stuck, because I had to deliver half of the every other Saturday 10 am activity. Grace has dance (promptly and on time) at ten. Do not be late, even if you are a struggling father uneducated in the working routines of the Gradeschoolus Cyclonii.
I had to get the kids to Tracey, then run way the hell out to work twenty-two miles away, restart the damned servers, that even now, to this moment, are still pissing me off. Two hours. Came home, picked up two kids, got Viv at half past noon, went home to wait for my mom and dad, which was made even more enjoyable by the presence of my wonderfully warm brother. And oh brother, what a mood he's hovering in. Yoiks. I don't recall the level of pressure Andy is under, but goodness gracious, that's a boy on the edge of anger, a lot of the time.
By three, we were hanging out. A little boy visited my house neighbor and the kids played with him for a few hours. Cute kid, too, looks a lot like the son of a friend of Tracey. They even called the little boy the same name, Max. And Max was not this kid's name. I finally managed to argue the kids inside the house, promising pizza, efficiently delivered in thirty minutes or less. Kids loved it. Rob popped in and ate with us, even bringing ice cream for the kids to munch on. That was very well received, to the point where Robbie told me "Daddy, I like Rob."
I risked a rough return on getting to sleep with the ice cream so late in the evening. But I got them down. Rob and I were left to our own debaucherous interests. Included in the evening were many sessions of feeding (yes, that is my description), checking out Tara Reid's sad exposed breast saga (what the hell did this girl do to herself?), and examining the new trailer for Revenge of the Sith. Basically, we were geeks.
It was getting late when the doorbell suddenly rang to life. It was the neighbor in the house to the right of me, a scaly old bag who wanted me to have Rob scoot his truck up so her husband could park. This ignorant ass rang the hell out of my doorbell at midnight so her equally scaly husband could have the honor of parking right in front of their house. Never mind that there are spaces EVERYWHERE around us, they needed to have this one spot. I was good and pissed, but played the nice neighbor. Rob was not as receptive to the idea, but decided it was time to take off anyway. As we stood on the porch, purposely taking as much time as we could to do the task, we were treated to a speech from the two of them on how cars are always getting broken into and stolen, and how the old lady shot at some men before on three different occasions. Fun stuff. These two idiots have hung a sign on the phone pole by their "spot" that says "Permit Parking Only". My landlord told me that they did that just to get people to park elsewhere. Let her come do that again in the middle of the night, and I won't be a nice neighbor any more. She's lucky she didn't wake up the kids.
Sunday brings an open schedule for us to fill. I'm thinking a leisurely morning and playgrounds in the afternoon. It's nice to have my kids with me again.
