Hel-LO, Monday. For no reason, Finley's been up in the middle of the night
the last couple nights and I was hoping for a solid night to get caught up on
sleep, but this morning she was wide awake 40 minutes before my alarm went off.
Working Mom guilt is powerful, and as badly as I had needed that 40 minutes, I
was grateful for the morning snuggles I don't usually get on weekdays. Still, my
mad rush out the door meant that I didn't notice that she had helpfully removed
one of my running shoes from my gym bag.
I noticed as I was changing at the gym an hour later, and after a quick and
desperate consideration of the feasibility of hitting the elliptical in Uggs, I
decided to race the clock, pack back up, and head across post to swim
instead.
It wasn't until I got there that I remembered that I had caught the teething
little beast chewing on my swimsuit Friday and hung it up out of her reach
in our entry way. At home. An hour-plus away. Luckily, I always keep a spare
swimsuit in my car, a remnant of my pre-kid spontaneous days. And as such, it
happens to be a triangle top string bikini.
Workouts on my incredibly tight schedule are gold, though, and I didn't have
a choice if I wanted one today. For the first time since Dad retired, I was
almost glad not to be running into Mom at the Belvoir pool. She would have died
of embarrassment at the sight of her very pregnant daughter swimming laps in a
triple-knotted string bikini. I looked, I imagine, like a whale stuck in a
fishing net. The bounds of decency were definitely exceeded.
It was a little bit of a rude awakening after a much-needed relaxing weekend
at home. Not usually my forte, I was so worn out that I actually. napped. On the
couch. It only lasted for about ten minutes, but it felt luxurious. (Seth, to
his credit, is remarkably supportive of naptime.)
We had had a little bit of a nutty week after our late return to the still
snow-blanketed DMV from (slightly) warmer climes. I juggled doubled-up school
hours to make up for the snow days, and Seth started his last semester of school
Friday. He prepped for it by spending a daddy-daughter day at home with Finley,
waiting on a surprise electrician appointment. In terrific news, he also fixed our
treadmill! In less-terrific news, Finley is now better at using the TV remote
than we are.
She also has a new big girl toothbrush, which she loves.
Which is probably a good thing, since I took her to the famous
Sugar Shack
donut shop Saturday morning when we were early for her first actual playdate.
Which was a rousing success, even if having to plan and schedule it made
Zayden's Mom and I feel very "DC."
We spent the rest of the weekend playing in the still-not-melted snow.
Finley- who is getting spoiled, enjoying snow
and highs in the upper
50s- adores riding around in her sled, looking like a tiny, bundled-up Cleopatra
in her barge. Anytime Mom or Dad stops to take a break, she grabs the ropes and
shakes them vigorously at us, her unmistakable signal to "giddyup!"
Don't she and Seth looks like twins in this picture?
We skipped our planned excursion to the Air & Space Museum Sunday in favor of
some lower-key trips to the park and a
brunch date, and agreed that hanging out in our own 'hood
had been a good call for all concerned.
We also got a juicer, part of my campaign to get Seth and Finley to ingest
more vegetables in any way possible. I wasn't sure how well it would go over,
but as soon as he got it out of the box Seth commenced juicing every bit of
produce in the house. (This was, incidentally, during my nap.) By dinnertime he
and Finley were both happily sipping kale juice. Success, even if it cracks me up that
Seth adds voluminous amounts of peanut butter to his "green" concoctions.
I didn't, because I love my husband and support the consumption of vegetables, document the
state of the kitchen
after this project. That definitely would've been the photo of the week.
But I did take this one one, which illustrates that sled rides with Dad are
significantly more exciting (and whiplash-inducing) than with Mom.
And loved this series, of Finley's discovery of the spinning desk chair.
Otherwise entitled, "lazy Sunday fun."
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