Solo weekend

I spent the first few days of the week hanging out with X at home, napping, practicing the keyboard, taking walks around the neighborhood, and recovering from our week out of town.

By Thursday I needed to get out of the house, and went to a playgroup run by our town's Family Network. It was good to get out and see people. Even though X screamed the second I put him in the car and didn't stop until I released him from the seat in both directions, as usual, at least the ride was only four minutes long. X was the youngest one there. I struck up a conversation with the two other moms of babies, but then they started competing about whose kids drank the least juice and I wandered away. I sat under a tree with a few moms and little kids until X started to squawk.

On Friday I was a little bolder and hopped a bus to Harvard Square. I didn't have a clear aim in mind, but when we got there I decided to take X to the Sackler Museum. (The Fogg, which displays modern art, would have been my preference but all the Harvard art museums are being renovated and they only have a small portion of their combined collections on display at the Sackler.) To my surprise, he LOVED it. I have never heard him babble so enthusiastically as when we were walking around those galleries. And as soon as we stepped into the stairwell, he would stop.

JW had to spend the entire weekend working, so it was me and the kids. Yesterday, we stuck around because X was having digestive problems and spent most of the day screaming. We played Hose Sprayer Man in the driveway, took a walk to count satellite dishes in the neighborhood (K hates taking walks unless there is some purpose, like collecting leaves or counting snails or dishes), and tried to help a neighbor find a lost dog.

Today I thought we could go to the MFA, where they have this Chihuly glass exhibit I thought K would love. (Also, they have air conditioning, which I would love!) But by the time we got it together, it was already 3 p.m. and the museum closes at 4:45. So we decided to have an adventure instead. We took the T into Boston and went to the playground at Boston Common. That part was great. The next part, not so much. It was such a hot day and there's a movie theater close by. I suggested we go see the Pooh movie. I told K that if X started to fuss we'd have to leave, but I hoped X would sleep through it. We ended up leaving with a crying child, but not the one I expected. The previews and commercials terrified K, especially a Sprite commercial where a guy's face breaks apart and turns into robotic parts. (Hello, theater manager! This is a movie for three-year olds about a bear who walks around the woods with his friends in search of honey!) At least we got a refund. X screamed all the way home and I ended up nursing him on a bench in the bus station, then pulling him off and running for the bus. Two separate kind women helped me get the stroller on and off the bus.

Other weekend activities: playing and playing and playing with K (who likes to give directions like, "You come down the stairs and say, 'Where's K?' Then you go in the living room. When you hear me laughing, say, 'Who is making that laughing noise?' Then come sit on the couch and pretend you don't notice me and I'm a pillow." K complains that his grandparents, who tend to go off-script, "don't play right").  De-scaling X's head. De-spidering K's playroom. Having the neighbors over for dinner and grilling something all by myself for the first time ever! (More or less. JW took the meat off the grill when I got distracted by K's potty emergency.)

And now it's Sunday night and as usual I'm wiped out and looking forward to Monday. When I'm back to work, what will I look forward to? I have a feeling life will be unremitting exhaustion.

Someone sent a message to one of my parent mailing lists advertising a room in a sunny Cambridge three-bedroom apartment to share with two other female grad students for $600 a month. I keep thinking about that for some reason. It just sounded so nice and simple. I know this is what we wanted, the kids, the big house in the nice neighborhood, the fancy jobs. I wouldn't give up the kids, of course (although it would be awfully nice to have grandparents nearby), and I know the rest is optional. But sometimes our lives seem so needlessly complicated.