Funky Friday

I love casual Friday.



I am still hacking things up. This morning I had to do a pretty close inspection to determine whether it was yellow or green. I think yellow. But I went to bed pretty early after ER last night with a sinus headache.



But we had pretty close to a perfect date night last night (except for the sinus headache): we ordered Mexican food, and while they were preparing it, zipped up to the store for tequila so we could make margaritas. Then we settled in with our yummy food and our TV shows (Joey, Will and Grace, and ER). Bliss!



Sam's class is having a "read in" today-- they earn points for doing their work on time, so today they get to read. All. Day. I wish I was in that class! I talked to Sam last night and he said that they are allowed to bring snacks and I asked him what he was bringing. "Nothing." Now. I don't think Mark is so much of a jerk that he wouldn't let Sam take one-- I think Sam just sometimes doesn't like to ask us, and the only explanation I have for that is that he is his mother's son. Sometimes I was a bit of a martyr too, ridiculously. So, I pressed him to see if I could bring a snack. He finally asked for hot cocoa in a thermos, which I delivered this morning.

The first thing I noticed in the classroom was that all the kids were spread out all over the floor and *every single kid* except mine had a blanket and pillow. SAM!!! I am sure that he could have asked Mark and Mark would have provided because Mark would have been horrified to have his kid be the only one without a blanket. He is very concerned about appearing to be a good parent. So, I ran home, got Sam's sleeping bag and pillow and returned, and Sam said, "You didn't put milk in the hot cocoa did you?" I shook my head. "It scalded my tongue."



I kissed him and went on my merry way, reflecting that Sam didn't realize that I went to extra effort to come to his school twice that morning, but that also I was happy that he took it for granted-- because I was happy to do it, and I want him secure enough to take those things for granted. So, why can't he just ask for simple things like snacks and blankets when apparently every other kid in class can? These things, and the fact that Christian has no friends (and Sam few) at school bother me, particularly when I'm in the shower, or tired, or have a cold-- like this morning.



But then I just shrug it off and keep going because I can't sit around and cry at work.



I have two meetings today, and that is actually good, because it will make the day go faster.



I think tonight we might go to a movie and tomorrow is a Hanukkah party, and my neck hurts and I have a cold, and I don't really want to do anything-- I think that I am in danger of becoming a girl who only wants to sit in bed with a book about Orthodoxy, rather than living, and that is not what I want from my life. I want to engage in it and to have fun with Dereck and appreciate him and appreciate OUR alone time this weekend, not simply MY time without kids.



I had a really vivid bad dream last night that Mark was jerking me around about taking the kids to Pennsylvania for Christmas and when we could leave, etc. and my lawyer told me to call his bluff and just go and that would teach me how to respond to empty threats. In my dream, I was crying and crying on the phone with my lawyer. And in my dream, the kids were all sleeping in a room with the answering machine right above their heads, and Mark kept calling at 5:00 a.m. and waking them up, and finally I heard and went in to them, and got on the phone with him and ended up screaming at him (very realistic because it has happened before, though not that early in the morning) and slamming the phone down.



Whenever I dream, I dream of cavernous houses that have rooms without end. I am always discovering new ones, and in this dream, I discovered a little room that we weren't using ,and decided to use it for storage, to get some of the clutter out of the living room. Houses in dreams are supposed to be your psyche-- so I wonder what that means... Interesting...



I'll have to ask Dereck about these dreams-- he is good at dream interpretation.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

The Longest Day

Teenage boys are sex maniacs

Not a Nike commercial