It also occurred to me this morning that I have nothing dressy for the boys at all. Not even non-jeans for pants!
The kids got right down to business, with Gina designating who got to ride the tricycle next via "Eeny Meeny Miny Mo." Julian only got a turn because I intervened, something I rarely do, but it's one thing for Gabriel to push his brother around in their own games, but not someone else's.
Of course, it was all over once Katrina caught sight of the tricycle.
Katrina was in fine form, happy as long as things were going her way, but increasingly demanding and screechy if things didn't. We were well into her naptime, so that explains some of it, but she wasn't much better after her nap at home. Dave and I both really had enough of her this weekend. We had lots of really fun cute times with her, but it takes 10 minutes of those to make up for 10 seconds of screeching, and the balance wasn't in our favor.
Incredibly, we got all 7 kids together for a pre-egg-hunt photo-op. I love how baby Declan is looking up at his second-cousins, like "whaaat?"
Good food, company, family -- exactly what holidays should be about.
And not headaches. I didn't think I had a headache today, but I keep feeling familiar signs of them. So I took a short nap this afternoon to fend it off.
And was tormented by a terrifying dream of driving and not being able to see, there was too much fog and rain and things being kicked up onto the windshield. I knew I was on the side of the road and was stricken with fear about running off a cliff and was still moving and couldn't think and didn't know what to do. I couldn't cope, couldn't overcome the overwhelming weight to pull my thoughts together as I careened into the fog. It felt like my life was over and I was just waiting for the inevitable crash that would take it.
I was rattled for hours after I woke up. It was so hard to shake off the sense of my world ending, and to believe that indeed I do have a future, and that my life is sunny and clear and colorful and filled with vibrant children. I'm not a depressive sort of person, but that sort of experience almost feels like I'm taking my first steps into a life of mental illness and rounds of drugs. Or is this all migraine-related? Or just plain old Freudian psychological fear and empathy for how my father must feel sometimes?
So going on a letterbox excursion at prime-dinner-making-time was essential.
I'd wanted to squeeze in a local letterbox somehow this weekend but now, some joyful utterly pure time with my boys was truly called for. Dave took Katrina to the supermarket (thank heavens for me, too bad for him, 'cause she was a pain there too), and the boys happily piled into the car for a little adventure.
One of the great things about letterboxing continues to escape us, which is finding new places to visit, because once again we went to a well-known familiar park: the BMX park! This letterbox had a fun clue, that included counting pavement squares, climbing a little down an embankment, and then pulling rocks aside to find it.
After we exchanged stamps, the boys played a little in the dry creekbed.
I felt a lot better, grounded and in touch with what's truly important to me. The boys' simple joy at being outside and hunting for something and watching the BMXers and running together and laughing made me happy and joyful too. And very sorry I'd worn slip-on shoes and couldn't chase after them!
When we got home, they even cleaned up the family room without much trouble. I set about making dinner, and my life was back to normal, which included instant blood pressure elevation once Katrina was back on the scene. I had some nice time playing with her before bedtime, but one just never knows what's going to set her off. I was all too happy to put her to bed.
In other news, we forgot to get Julian up last night to go to the bathroom. This morning, he was a little wet -- so little that he just wore his damp pajamas all morning until we realized it and insisted he get dressed. Two or three other mornings, he's been a little damp like this too, but that was with waking him up. He wasn't any wetter today without us waking him up. So I guess that's a little progress. This for sure though: he's done with night-time Pull-Ups.
Thank you to the White family for having us today (and our apologies to the city of Saratoga for Katrina's screeching), and to the Ryders for turning us on to the fabulously fun outlet of letterboxing!
3/23/08
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