Things I Learned While Spending Alone Time With My Husband This Weekend

 

 

 

 

• My boys can survive without me. In fact, the frustrating four year old is even better behaved when left with his aunt. Said aunt has been warned- more visits to come!
• The frustrating four year old CAN, in fact, sit still and occupy himself while his caregiver makes dinner. (I have not seen this, but I swear this is what was reported to me.)
• Grandparents with older cell phones live on "retiree time" and don't always call to let you speak to your super six year old when you wish they would. But they do eventually call, and always, everything is fine.
• Wine tastes better when served in a real wine glass and not being drunk out of a plastic child's cup in between folding laundry and refereeing fights between small children.
• If I stand over my husband at the casino slot machine chanting "Bet max! Bet max!" repeatedly, he will give me more money to lose  spend at my own slot machine.
• Old bank buildings do not always convert naturally into hotels. The echo at the front desk would drive me insane if I worked there 8 hours a day.
• Tiny elevators that can barely hold two adults and one suitcase also do not serve hotels well.
• I like hotel rooms with wood floors.
• I have been missing my husband. I found him again. And it was great.
• Reading magazines for pleasure, and not for parenting, discipline, trauma, or ADHD, can be very relaxing.
• You truly do see everything on public transportation.
• Older adults seem to find us no matter where we go and ask for help. This time it was my husband, giving directions to a food court. We picked up the two little old ladies about two blocks from Tower City and walked with them all the way inside, assuring they knew where they were going.
• Helping people, no matter how insignificant it feels at the time, still feels good.
• Making up conversations between diners at neighboring tables is as much fun as I remembered it to be.
• We miss living so close to the city.
• We missed each other.
• My husband never knew I was asked to a high school dance on the steps of the garden at the Cleveland Art Museum.
• Despite not having either child with us we still couldn't stop talking about the boys.
• We need to do this more often.
• A little melatonin goes a long way in obtaining a peaceful 3 hour car ride home.

5: number of meatballs thrown on the floor

Sunday was not a great day at my house. My tiny toddler is now sweet at least 80% of the time. Which is pretty much my percentage as well. Sunday his percent went down, drastically, as did mine. The afternoon spun out of control as he hit his big brother, (who never once hit him back, God bless him), threw toys at me, and pretty much singlehandedly destroyed the living room. Wonderfully Patient Daddy took him upstairs to play at one point, which seemed to help. Problem solved! What great parents we are!

But then Daddy and my tiny toddler showed back up in the newly put back together living room and the downward spiral started again. And again. And again. And nothing worked. And that is when the countdown to bedtime began.

Here's a breakdown of the numbers:

5:   number of hard plastic toys thrown at my head before I finally started handing over plush ones.

8:   number of times I was hit in the eye, ear, or mouth by 7 sets of eyes and one shoe string on aforementioned plush toys.

1,287: number of alternative toys, snacks, beverages, music and books offered.

27:   number of times my big four and a half year old ran at me at top speed yelling "uh oh, Mommy, here he comes!", as his little brother lunged at him, yet again.

2:   number of times I was convinced I had chipped a tooth

675: number of times my sweet little boy shook his finger at me and said "no, no, no!"

862: number of time outs attempted

1:   number of time outs that actually occurred

15:  number of times I pictured the wine in the pantry

5:   number of meatballs thrown on the floor at dinner

2:   number of meatballs thrown at my big four and a half year old's head during dinner

2.5: number of projected hours between dinner and bedtime

1.5: number of actual hours between dinner and bedtime

*writers note: this list does not include the number of times I was brought to near tears during the day. Oh, and some of the numbers may be slightly inflated. But I swear, if asked in the heat of the moment, these numbers would have been my best guess.