Like the last half mile of a run, the end is in sight and I am pushing for it. Aside from rehearsal and some football game that apparently is pretty important and is either going to make or break my father in law's day, I have nothing due or to do this weekend. I don't count rehearsal because it's fun and I don't count the Superbowl because I am the world's worst sports fan and honestly don't follow anyone until they're doing something cool like going to something that ends in -offs, Series or Bowl. And even then I'll probably mess up the details. I caught the last quarter of the Pats vs. Ravens game in a local bar and it was so crazy I wasn't even sure who was cheering for who. Fortunately, I was in good company:
*My former co-worker, The Very Fabulous Ronnie, is cheering*
Me: Ronnie, do you even know who you're cheering for?
Ronnie: The Pats, of course! This is a very important game. Do you know why?
Me: ...No... (Yes, I know, I know, and it was a totally honest answer.)
Ronnie: Whoever wins goes to the Superbowl!
Me: Don't even pretend you knew that before showing up at The Bar today.
And we laughed, because it was true, and I watched the game because when I get an attention span I actually do find football interesting, and all was well until I tried to make some innocuous comment about the game to a friend of mine later. He launched into a full spiel about how the Pats really didn't deserve their win and all the technical things they screwed up on and I got entirely lost and started re-organizing my pantry in my head because dammit, I'm good like that.
Seriously, I'm a lost cause. If you want me to appreciate men in tight clothing jumping about, tickets to the ballet are always in fashion.
Holy digression, Batman. Is anyone even still reading?
This weekend. I cannot wait. Not only because I get to go to rehearsal and block (which, I reiterate, will be the only form of blocking I will pretend to understand on Sunday) but because that means The Week of Sick is over. Mary was well enough to go to pre-school today, I was able to get a couple of needed errands done, and we're still pretty much out of groceries but I can improvise until Tim is able to watch the kids. I am a woman of many talents but I'm no masochist and I draw the line at bringing the entire flea circus into Stop and Shop, especially since Mary and Anna invariably want the cart with the big, ugly, impossible to maneuver plastic car on the front of it and then I spend the shopping trip keeping Anna from selecting and trying to open various snacks, Mary from trying to get out of the cart entirely and the cart from ramming into little old Italian ladies who throw elbows. And then I pay almost $2 a gallon too much for milk because it's $4.99 a gallon at the supermarket and $2.99 at the corner store (no, I have no idea why) but there is no way in hell I am performing an additional three-in, three-out car seat bucking extravaganza for $2. My time, it is worth more than that. Just ask the people at the bank who used to pay me so well.
Lily celebrated the Return of Relative Wellness by attempting to go mobile, and I do not mean creating her own sputum-fueled app for my phone. The child is army crawling and rocking back and forth on her hands and knees and I do not need this yet. First of all, my baby, my last baby, is growing up way too fast, and second, my baby, my last baby, does not need to be getting into all the crap her older sisters already get into.
Mary was just thrilled to go back to school today. She came home with a paper of all her classmates' names so that she could provide them with valentines at the Feb. 14 party. My head immediately filled with imagery: My eldest and I sitting at the dining room table after the other two had gone to bed, lovingly cutting out red paper hearts, gluing doilies and sticking sparkly stickers, painstakingly writing friends' names with pink and red markers, cutting out appropriately themed pictures from magazines like Good Housekeeping and Better Homes and Gardens. And then I realized that except for the markers and construction paper, we have absolutely none of those things on hand, which means I'd have to go to Target and purchase them. And I know the second I try to do that, kids in tow (because what mom doesn't let her kids pick out their own art supplies?) I'm going to say "screw it" and pick up a box of pre-punched Hello Kitty cards and call it good.
I'm an awesome mom.