Tuesday, May 21, 2013

Playing Hooky

We had a super epic day playing hooky last week. Joe, being from South Jersey, is a Phillies fan, and guess who was in town recently to play the Giants? So we skipped work, pulled Sody out of school, and took the ferry into SF for a baseball game. The unpredictable San Francisco weather was the only iffy part of the day (we weren't super prepared for coldness, but at least I threw a pair of leggings in my bag for Sody "just in case" because they surely got used) but everything else was fantastic. The boat ride together, the views, the gorgeous ballpark, garlic fries, a kids play area where Sody got to hit a ball and run the bases (later, when she saw the real field when the game started, she said "This one is bigger than the kid's field. Why?"), her attention span for the game and sitting in her seat and just taking in everything, all of it. Also - this was cool - one of Sody's friends from school has a mom who is a sportswriter who happened to be working that day, so she gave us a tour of the press box. Sody fist-bumped someone kinda famous there but I can't remember who and Joe is asleep so I can't verify this right now. He was big and he had a huge World Series ring. That's all I know. But the point is, the whole day was pretty rad and special. Perfect family day.

Special shout out to my in-laws for supplying all the Phillies gear in recent years, because we were completely decked out!



 
 
 


 
 

 
 
 

Tuesday, May 7, 2013

Weekend fun timez

A sampling of what our weekends look like:
 
 
going for walks in the 'hood
 

getting pumped up to go work out with Dad - they went running together

swimming! our new building has a pool! we are so, so excited about this!

first soup-in-a-bread-bowl experience. she wanted to order chili and I had no idea she liked chili before this...I only make chunky veg chili which she has never had any interest in, but apparently the chili at school is awesome and she loves it. specifically with rice and cheese on top. so thank you, Teacher Carmen, for your fabulous cooking! sody loves your cheeseburgers, too.

making art: the start

making art: it's finished.
(I know it's probably obvious to you that the big one is Daddy, the next person is Mommy, and the last little one that looks like just a head is Sody. the scribble squiggle lines are her "writing" which says, "dear pop-pop, I hope you like this picture that I made for you.")
 

hanging with buds. digging in sand while wearing princess dresses. of course.



Saturday, May 4, 2013

And This is What You Call Mom Guilt




Apologies if you have heard this story already; I can't seem to shut up about it. I did something dumb. It didn't cause the world to end or anything, but it sort of ruined something for Sody and made me feel horrible and and it was all. my. fault. We are over it now (actually, Sody was over it right away, I am the only one that felt so awful about it) but Mom Guilt is so real and so powerful. Waaaaah.

Let me explain.

A few weeks back, there was a birthday party for one of Sody's school friends. She had been looking forward to this party for quite a while, and truth be told, so were we: all our preschool-parent homies were going to be there (we have gotten pretty close with some of the couples at school lately) and there was going to be a hired "fairy" on hand to do face painting and balloons and yadda yadda yadda. Also, the birthday girl's mom was a former pastry chef so I wanted to eat all the treats. (I have my priorities, people.)
So Sody was on a countdown for the upcoming party. The day before, we went to buy a birthday present and ended up getting Sody a purple "princess" dress (her first one, I couldn't resist because it was cheap and she was being so good and she was SO excited to wear it to the party) and she was literally telling *everyone* we saw (store clerks, customers, whoever) that "she was going to a party and there was going to be a REAL fairy there with face paint and balloons" and on and on and on. And on. No joke. She was crazy excited. So we got our outfits and the present and the card all finished, and we were just so, so ready for this party.
Sunday, party day. Sody woke up ready to roll. But we had to wait aaaaaaall morning, until 2:00 pm, party time. Endless morning. And then finally - finally! - we left for the party and Sody was crazy on the way there, just so ready to show off her dress to all her school friends and meet this real fairy and get her face painted and eat cupcakes. We pulled up to the house and noticed that some people were filing out. Quickly, horribly, gut-wrenchingly realized that the party ENDED at 2:00, not started at 2:00. I had read the Evite wrong in my haste.
I felt HORRIBLE.
I made her miss the one thing she had been so, so excited for. The birthday girl's parents were awesome and let us stay and hang out, so it wasn't so traumatic. And we actually ended up staying a loooong time and essentially had a playdate:  the girls played and trashed what was left of the cake, the grownups had beers, the mom found some old face paint so we could paint something on Sody's face, since she had missed the face-painting fairy. She really took it like a champ - there was some questioning of "why are all my school friends gone? where is the fairy?" but in general she accepted (or didn't comprehend) that we had completely missed the boat - but I was literally near tears a good part of the afternoon. I know she had a fun day anyway, but knowing what she was supposed to have made me feel terrible. Knowing that I had made her miss it made me feel terrible. I ruined the thing she had been looking forward to.

It seems kind of silly, thinking of it all now...but at the time, it just crushed me. Like, I always feel like there is never enough time with her during the week, so the weekends are our time together and I want to make it good. It needs to count. Or otherwise I am going to be a constant pile of tears about how I just never see my kid. So, then when the big anticipated fun weekend times get screwed up, I just feel like I am failing on all counts.

Being a working mother blows.