Sleeping with our kids has the benefit – besides a warm cuddly life-affirming experience – of hearing what they say in their sleep. This morning, for instance, Nels was worried about spiders. He kept jabbering about it. In my 6 AM sleepy haze I tried to address his concerns but I must have been lacking as at one point he said, “Mama. Mama, is there a spider here in the bed? – Yes or no?” to get the straight story. Even better: about four nights ago, when suddenly at about 3 AM he said distinctly, “I *EAT* greens!” and then even more hilariously made a huge chomping sound to prove the point. As Ralph and I lay quietly shaking the bed with our silent laughter our three year old made about a half dozen more “for good measure” emphatic chomps before finally quieting back to sleep.
I am currently trying not to hyperventilate at the thought that I might very well be receiving a new sewing machine, and soon, due to the inexplicable potential generosity of my mother. This would be the second of my New Year’s resolutions already accomplished in the first month of the year. Did I mention fully three of my five resolutions have to do with buying myself something? Yeah, I know. It means I’m some kind of asshole or something.
You have to understand that this came out of the blue as yesterday, while waiting for our coffee pre-bike ride, my mom went directly from suggesting I save my pennies for a new “low-end” (meaning, $800 or more) sewing machine like she has – to telling me she was thinking of trading in her high-end serger to get me a machine. As a gift. (I think this was her very fast math after I did an out-loud calculation of how long it would take for pennies to get me a new rig.) So tomorrow and Tuesday we’ll be going about fishing for a trade-in. It’s all a very interesting process for me, and I don’t know if I’ll end up with a machine or not. I don’t pretend to know how her crazy old mind works and I know she doesn’t get mine. I’m trying not to think of how wonderful it would be to have a new machine – because a bird in the hand as they say. Don’t get your hopes up. Don’t sit here, rocking back and forth, wanting a new machine.
Today it was beautiful out and we enjoyed a modest bike ride to the 7th Street Theatre where my husband donated his expertise at getting them set with DSL and my children ran all over the place and tumbled down the ramps while yelling because by noon they’d already had three types of chocolate. Well, I love my new bike. Today Ralph tried to hook the kids’ trailer up to it and said, “Hmm, it appears to be rubbing on this part of the bike,” and I looked down to see his man-thumb was gripping my disc brakes which are not supposed to be touched by human hand at all, let alone rubbed by a big ol’ hardware hookup. This means I’m back to the bike shop ASAP since the shop owner had told me the bike would accommodate the Burley trailer easy and the entire point of my bike acquisition was that of a family transport.
Tonight: a little MST3K courtesy of the DAP project while I attempt to avoid thinking about the bottle of wine Ralph bought.