The weekend was fun, then same old-same old, then a Debbie Downer, then thankheavensnoonewasinthekitchen, then SUSHI and the weekend ended on a high note.
It started with the Elder meeting me in tears at the end of the school day Friday when I came to pick her up. High fever, sneezing, a bad headache, and tears. This was about 45 minutes before I was supposed to ditch the kids with the boy for a night on the TOWN (e.g. a dinner with faculty members which ended with a gourmet popcorn bar and me filling up the rest of my bag with brownies and key lime cheesecake squares...the "mommy purse" holds lots of those). There were a tense couple of minutes on a texting-turned-phone conversation with the boy that sounded a whole lot like Her-fever-is-really-high-and-she-doesn't-want-to-move-can-you-come-home-early-well-maybe-by-4:45-no-that's-too-late-alright-she'll-have-to-suck-it-up. And she did, like a champ (with more tears, not that I blame her). The child-swap transition went well, and it was just me, the open road, some (loud) music, and...a 4-car pile-up on the highway. I tell you what, that made me calm myself down, real quick like.
The rest of the night went swimmingly (Did I mention the brownies and the key lime cheesecake squares? Copious amounts of them?), and I made two new friends (whoodalolly!).
But all of that put me in a better frame of mind for a drizzly Saturday with the sick-one and the squirt. So we went on a special mission to buy a new toy for each. And, the Elder didn't figure out that I broke my "$5/kid" rule and helped out a bit more with the Younger's sweet waffle-maker toy. (Sidenote: I've had at least half a dozen waffles served to me thus far, including one in bed this morning. Oh, snap.)
Then the boy came home a bit earlier than expected, and I do love me some alone time with my clean laundry.
But the sick one also means that I ended up with more confinement on Sunday morning, but when my kids aren't feeling well, it means all sorts of squirming-snuggling-reading time. Reading with the squiddgles...sigh. And since there was no vomit involved with anyone, do believe me: That was a happy sigh.
And then I blew up a glass 8x8 pan. (Sidenote: I hear someone mowing their yard right now. That is most definitely the sound of a lawn mower. Some people...) So, there were sharp shards of glass l-i-t-e-r-a-l-l-y everywhere in my kitchen, but somehow, no one was in the kitchen when my salted caramel blondies turned into flying shrapnel. And while I'm on the topic, can we have a moment of silence for the gorgeous pan of the aforementioned salted caramel blondies that were only about 25% enjoyed. They were so young...so fresh...so unfulfilled. And they just got dumped in the trash as if they were moldy leftovers. I won't mince words here: There was definitely some residual longing for those chewy gems all night.
But that unfortunate moment ended with SUSHI, and if you ever want to see someone milk something for all it's worth, just feed the boy SUSHI. He was having a moment (and then some). Perhaps, he wanted to enjoy his $15 worth of raw fish and rice. I, however, just want to follow up bite after delicious-y chop-sticked bite with no interruption. And I accept it for what it is when it's all done. Perhaps.
There's just something about seeing your credit card statement at an all time low right after getting your gaudy tax refund stashed safely back in your bank account that makes you want to go and drop $30 on a few bits of sticky rice.