Labor Day

I think Kates is getting back at me for leaving her alone for six months to take care of our toddler … Really, I know that’s not her intent, but that’s how I’m justifying it.

For at least one day during the last several weekends, she’s left me alone with the kiddo so she can go to her school to prepare her classroom, lesson plans and all the other things people in her underappreciated profession must do.

So today Kates went to her school.

Meanwhile, my day consisted of …

Searching our storage room for a box with Phoebe’s nebulizer; Kates wanted to give  her a breathing treatment in hopes of helping her get over the cough she’s been harboring since last weekend. The nebulizer had been put away with a collection of things Phoebe has either outgrown or no longer uses, and I had no idea where it was in the room. Grudgingly, I started pulling away the stacks of boxes, occasionally opening the ones I thought might hold the magic nebulizer. I got lucky and found it sooner than I expected ... But have I mentioned my back is still killing me from the move two months ago?

Taking Phoebe to the park. Not that I don’t enjoy taking Phoebe to the park. I relish taking walks with her, taking in the neighborhood and exercising my legs … But today she had her first fall at the playground. We were sitting on a set of bars about three feet off the ground, and she was admiring the collection of rocks in her hand when she lost her balance and fell back-first through the bars. It happened so fast all I could do was hold on to her leg as she dangled upside down and then set her on the ground as gently as possible, head first. She started crying and I raced to the other side of the bars to console her. Her conscious was hurt more than anything, but she got right up and tried again, announcing “I not fall!” I also convinced her she would have an easier time climbing the bars if she put down her rocks. Fortunately for both of us, she listened.

Doing laundry. It’s a time-sucking bear … We have a washer and dryer set that’s gotta be circa 1978. The washer isn’t a problem -- yet -- but the dryer produces so little heat we have to run two or three cycles before our clothes are dry. The last couple weeks, the dryer has been clanging so badly we’re convinced the next load could be its last. We finally told our landlord about it last week and hope to have a new washer-dryer set soon.

Serving supper to Phoebe. She asked for chicken nuggets and carrots with milk -- her favorite. So I prepared her dish, poured the milk into her sippy cup and set them in front of her. As usual, she grabbed for the milk first -- and spilled a quarter of it onto her lap; I hadn’t screwed the cap onto the cup properly. Phoebe burst into tears, and eating supper became a lost cause as we headed for her room to change her clothes. 

The last event happened nearly two hours ago … Now we’re trying supper again and watching "Jonah." It's going well.

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