Having a chair collapse under you isn’t nearly as funny as the slapsticks would have you believe.[/caption] Probably should have sensed the tone of the day when I went to stand on an old chair to retrieve the slow cooker (I never felt short until I was an adult, and I came to realize that actual grown-up kitchens were built for grown-up-sized people), and…
I should take it as a good thing, probably, that I’ve moved beyond the point in time when a dramatic crash to the floor such as this would have had me feeling elephantine for the rest of the day. “HULK TOO BIG FOR PUNY CHAIR RAWWWWWWWR!” No, this was the chair’s failing, not mine, but that’s small consolation when you feel your legs jammed abruptly into your hip sockets as you unexpectedly meet the floor. Ow. Probably should have taken the extra thirty seconds to get the actual step-stool, which is made of metal and meant to accomodate the weight of a human. (Though not an elephant.)
Anyway. Tired. Has been that sort of day. Nothing so dramatic as the start, other than Gabe’s return home, performed at triple-forté, as he attempted to kick down the front door (he’s meant to come in the side) with screeching and bewailing my manifold failings as a parent. That was entertaining. But the rest…
Gideon was a butthole, so I decided to try a walk-run instead of a simple walk with him, in hopes of draining his energy, and it worked – sort of. He was tired by the end, but the brief running segments we did were SO EXCITING that he could barely keep from running zig-zags in front of me…on ice. Whee.
Eric came home sick, feeling horrendously nauseated. I’m sympathetic in the extreme, but it complicated matters, in that I had to (try to) prevent both kids and dog from bugging him and making it worse, and it means that I have to be the one to stay up with the dog until he takes his last pee-break for the night. I’d rather have collapsed by eight.
Sam is struggling again with staying organized in school. Ongoing battle there, nothing new. We’re aware of and trying to deal with his issues, which are amazingly similar to my own, so it’s doubly hard not to over-identify with him in a damaging way. Also, it’s hard to step in and keep him on task with his homework when – for real – I know darn well this is stuff I either never knew or wouldn’t have been taught until at least high school (the teenagers at church, who witnessed him doing his astronomy homework, agreed. “Du-uuuuuuude!”), but that’s not the point. Sure will be glad, though, next semester, when he has creative writing and illustration classes.
Gabe, as mentioned, was full of fire today. The afternoon’s tantrum was bigger than the morning’s, which was over violin practice – not that he didn’t want to do it, but that he wanted to do it his way, and any correction on my part was met with extreme firepower. So funny, though; he’ll have these outbursts, as, for example, last night at bedtime, and then I’ll leave for a few minutes, and return to find something like this propped and waiting for me:
Anyway. Leave the day behind. Trying to plan the year ahead, especially on the running front. The fall race I wanted was unfortunately scheduled for Gabe’s birthday, so now I’m left scrambling for a runner-up. Deciding between one of a couple of road 50-milers (not eager to tackle another trail one until I finally settle this whole “fall-down-go-boom” thing I have going on) or a 24-hour run that’s in North Carolina. At this point, based on scheduling, I’m leaning toward the Lakefront 50/50 in Chicago. Anybody want to join me? Will discuss this more in days to come, obviously, but it’s ten o’clock now, and I think I might be able to persuade the dog that it could be bedtime.