Sunday, July 11, 2010

Sunday Morning Ramblings

It isn't even Sunday afternoon yet and already I'm dreading the week to come. Well, I suppose dreading isn't the right word, but I'm certainly not looking forward to it. A week without our daddy round is a rough week indeed.

Today the man of the house left at 5:30am to go take part in this race (a duathalon) in Fremont. I suspect he'll return home around 2:00, or thereabouts. Tomorrow he'll need to be at work by 3:00am to meet the milk truck and spend the rest of the day making cheese. Wednesday will be a repeat of Monday. Cheesemaking makes for a long week for all of us. Lots of early-to-bed, early-to-rise, lots of whining from a toddler who gets bored of his mother after 12 hours of playing what-shall-we-do-next, and lots of chores put-off, dishes & laundry building up. Lots of stress. For everyone. But in the midst of it all, we are quite aware that we are not among the many in our country to whom unemployment benefits were recently NOT renewed. So I shall keep my lip buttoned and pull myself up by my bootstraps. Or, as my mother put it, I will "dig down" and trudge through.

Yesterday (before the reality of the week ahead became clear to us, around 5:00pm) was lovely. I made the decision to experimentally withold Levi's first nap in hopes that he would take a longer second nap (which he did not, he took a normal 90 min. nap which started and ended WAY earlier than usual) and potentially sleep in later this mjorning (which he most certainly did not) Never-the-less, He was mostly cheerful until dinner time. We went to the farmers market, got cookies at the Cookie Co., built towers out of pots and pans, and soaked ourselves at Trego Park Sprayground...

...which brings me to my story of the day. So I'm sitting at the park, on the ground away from the water. My husband is running around chasing our toddler. A woman sets up camp beside me with about 5 kids. Maybe 6 (all between 2 & 9 years of age). She looks to be their grandmother, but how am I to know? She looks a bit disorganized, appears to be frustrated with some of the children, and basically sets them loose. One is in a stroller. After a moment she comes over to me and says "say mam, could I please borrow a diaper?", Sure. No problem. And then she goes on to tell me (unsolicited, I assure you) that the father of two of the children was murdered, which is why she has custody of them. She's fostering two other children, and the final two were in the custody of their grandparents until they died recently. Sheesh! this woman has her hands FULL! No wonder she's a bit discombobulated.

But that's not all. Then another woman approaches me and asks me if I wouldn't mind keeping an eye on her two grandchildren while she ran to her car to "get some drinks". Sure, no problem. I have to admit, for a few moments there I wondered if she was actually going to return. It's amazing how many generalizations I so quickly make based on a person's appearance, or apparent social status. But, after what seemed like an unrealistically long time (for the stated trip to the car) Grandma returned. She parked herself on a bench all the way across the playground from me, but 10 minutes later she came back over, 7-up in hand. "Here", she said, "this is for keeping an eye on my grandkids." and, probably because the look on my face was one of surprise, she added "it's unopened." I was quick to thank her.

It becomes more and more obvious to me every day that Jonathan and I lead privileged lives. My own social construct is such that I pass quickly judgement upon those who seem to be "lesser," (i.e. less educated, less socially aware, less sophisticated etc.) When in reality, they just have less (less money, less opportunity, less positive influence, etc.) When will I ever learn? I am a work in progress, that is to be sure.

And now Levi is down for the morning nap that I deprived him of yesterday (because honestly, I REALLY needed some quiet time, knowing there will be precious little of it in the weeks to come). The saga of the loose poop continues, in case you were curious. I feel like we've regressed to the point we were at before he started solid food (mucus and all), but that's probably a touch more than you wanted to know. It's just frustrating. And messy. And maybe that's why it bothers me so much. That, and the fact that I can't "figure it out". I hate it when I can't make sense of things. I may consider putting him in disposables (gasp!) for the coming week or so to save my sanity while Hubby is oh-so-busy and I temporarily become the two-in-one parent from dawn to dusk.


I should share, though, that my I have seen a HUGE improvement in my jaw since I started doing the exercises the oral surgeon gave me, and also started taking the flexerol (a quarter of his recomended dose). Big PTL there. I mean, I'm not entering a jerky eating contest or anything, but at least bread and salad are back on the menu and I can take a break from smoothies and steamed broccoli.

Enjoy your weekend, friends. And may the next one come quickly!

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