Flying solo

Superman's amazing grandfather died this week. And while all of us flying home to celebrate this man's awesomeness wasn't in the cards, I'm thankful that E could travel home to be with his family and reminisce.

Being Superman, he has dutifully called each day (sooooo not a natural thing for him) to do FaceTime with the kids. Obviously, between P telling him stories and Z, not to be topped by her brother, jabbering loudly (with her face positively Planted on the ipad screen), well, I can't get a word in edgewise ;). So I thought a pity strewn (as he is quite worried about my sanity surviving his week away, what with Z being Z and, well, P being P;) update would make him miss us less....

Day 1
E leaves. The baby cries loudly as she watches him drive off with (to add insult to injury) her Aunt, Uncle and beloved cousin. I rock nap time, read to P, clean the kitchen while playing with him and make an amazing dinner that night. P spends the day stomping loudly on the floor, so happy to not worry about bothering his downstairs neighbors. While playing in the attic before bed, P says how much fun it is that papa is gone for a change (apparently my pre-bed demeanor (I'm typically doing dishes and laundry pre-bed) is different than Superman's.) Although I glance at the clock about 15 times waiting for bedtime to strike, I finally go to bed with a (relatively) clean house and happy children, patting myself on the back. Aaaaand, we have our new babysitter coming the next afternoon so I can get some cooking done. I SO have this covered.

Day 2
Day one felt a little long, so I plan an outing. It doesn't take, so we play kinda peacefully all morning upstairs. The babysitter cancels. She has chicken pox. That's ok... After Z's psychotically short nap, I herd the children to the car and make it to the zoo without incident or tears. Z even has shoes this time. The kids enjoy themselves and the fresh air revives me. Traffic flows all of the way home and the kids quietly munch their snacks that I'm so proud I packed. Dinner is delish and the dishes almost get done. The evening attic time drones for hours (how early did that sun set?!?! and who's wise idea was it to have kids that stay up until 10?!?!) and I almost don't get my teeth brushed before bed, but it all pulls together in the last few minutes with a fun bed dance party and the beauty of sleeping children. I can do this.

Day 3
Day two was way too long. I wake up with big plans only to find that Phoenix has risen early and broken the stairwell key off in the lock. He is sweating and mortified and attempting to rectify the situation with tweezers. I sigh more loudly than needed as the (apparently Starving) cat on the other side of the door shrieks. I disassemble the lock, feed the cat, make a huge breakfast. A quick trip to a locksmith and the key is discharged, copied and the children whisked home. When I replace the lock I feel unbeatable and think, Superman who? I make an even bigger lunch and feel like the ultimate provider. Then there is a long afternoon with play and errands. Dinner that night looks to never happen, as I'm struggling to get through the pile of dishes already glaring at me and Z is not having any of it. The Little Man saves the day with a babysitting proffer and the children eat something semi warm, but with a salad from the garden. As thanks for his great sacrifice, I toss together some honey custard to bake as we dance away the last long hours of another winter night in the attic. As the children eat their bedtime custard, I notice the compost is overflowing and the recycling seems to be multiplying as quickly as the dishes. Oh, superman....

Day 4
Well, day 3 dragged on for forever, so I wake up with big plans for a nice, long, morning hike. The children rebel and I'm still in my pajamas at 1, bouncing Z down for her nap and trying not to count how many days it has been since I showered, Once she (finally) falls asleep, I bail on the dreamy shower in lieu of food (ewww, but I do so like to eat....). After that, P needs me right until... That baby wakes up again. As they start to chase each other, screaming, I throw clothes at myself and scream the loudest that we are going on a scoot. The outdoors works it's magic and we are all content and smiles. I feel a renewed sense of accomplishment. I reward myself for all of the scratch cooking kale chip eating days this week with an organic frozen pizza and no mothereffing extra dishes. And P watches a movie before bed so I can try and wade through the mess now overtaking the attic while Z tries to make me nurse her baby doll. As we eat our leftover custard before bed I make a mental note to do something about that compost pile. And the laundry. Oh, and the recycling.

We'll see how day 5 goes, but I'm noticing a trend here, no?;)