a sane evening

The chill whacked me in the face as I walked out of BioSci at 4:11 pm. Before leaving my office, I'd taken a good look out the window, and it wasn't raining (although the sky was sullenly grey, as it was all day). It was raining this morning, when I biked in to school. I need fenders. I also need rain gear. It took most of the day for my clothes to dry off; the seat of my pants never fully did. I hoped for a relatively dry ride home. But when I hit the open air, it hit back with a surprisingly dense and sharp mist. Usually, I lock my bike in a sparsely populated rack slightly uphill from the main entrance to BioSci. Today, however, I parked in the large rack at the entrance, where sheltering trees would keep my saddle dry. I unlocked my bike, got on, started to pedal up the hill. Immediately, my muscles seemed to freeze up. Maybe it was the sudden cold; maybe it was just that it was Friday afternoon of a long week. Maybe it had to do with the phase of the moon; I always get sore and tired more easily at this phase. In any case, it was a slow slog home.

I swung into our babysitter's driveway at 4:36. Happily, Hop was in a good mood and was excited to see me. However, when I got the bike trailer hooked up and strapped him in, he started to fuss. He grumbled and squawked most of the way home; the only coherent word was "carseat." Maybe he was upset about leaving his "new" carseat behind? On Wednesday this week Hop and I went to a nearby children's consignment store and bought a used carseat to take to the babysitter's house and leave there, since transporting child and carseat in the bike trailer is very awkward.

When we got home, I proposed to Hop that we make cookies. He was enthusiastic about that idea and was a good helper as I mixed up the peanut butter cookie dough. We have only recently begun allowing him to eat peanut products. Skip had been snacking on roasted salted peanuts while watching a baseball game, and Hop managed to get into the bag and eat several. He showed no sign of adverse reaction, so we figured there was no point holding off any longer. Tonight's batch was the first batch of peanut butter cookies I've made in a very long time.

Eventually Hop's interest shifted to feeding cat treats to Alyosha (Yayo) while I finished the mixing. Then he helped me "mash mash mash" the cookies with a fork. When they came out of the oven, we each ate one with milk. Then it was time to go to dinner. Tonight was our biweekly "eat out" on the dinner calendar. Skip is gone tonight on a fishing trip with the men of the ward. So Hop and I went on a dinner date by ourselves. Since Skip took the car, I figured we could bike the short distance to one of the restaurants in the strip mall on the other side of our block.

I had the Mexican restaurant in mind, but ended up choosing the small Italian restaurant instead, because I could park the bike and trailer out front and keep an eye on them. Hop and I have been to the Italian place before, while we were moving in. It's not a particularly good restaurant, but it is clearly a labor of love by its proprietor. He and his staff (of one) are eager to please, and they try hard. I enjoyed my pasta dish, and Hop enjoyed his warm roll with butter. He was not too badly behaved. I managed to contain his wiggles and messes and to stay calm and in control. Hop charmed some of the other customers with his giggles and exclamations.

When we got back home, it was bedtime. I got Hop into his pajamas without too much trouble, and we read several books. I remained patient and kind as he demanded a repetition of Go, Dog, Go (which I loathe). He was well behaved as I said our prayer. He requested another time through How Do Dinosaurs Say Goodnight?, and then I turned off the light. I sang my usual five songs while he curled up in a nest of pillows, blankets, and stuffed animals on the floor. By the end of "I Am A Child of God," he was quiet and still and his breathing calm, though I could tell he wasn't quite asleep. I risked leaving the room. He popped up and ran to the door. I picked him up and asked if he needed another song. He said "yes, sing" so I sang another and then put him back in his nest and left the room. He cried for only a couple of minutes.

Back downstairs, I washed the dishes. There weren't too many. Halfway through dishwashing, I was interrupted by a telephone solicitor. He introduced himself as "Patrick." He was calling from India on behalf of some satellite TV service, but I couldn't make out which. He sounded very bleary-eyed, and also very new on the job and ill-trained. Poor fellow. I maintained my equanimity. I finished the dishes. As I finished, I heard Hop start to cry loudly. Perhaps he had a nightmare. I went up to comfort him, but there seemed little I could do, so I left the room again. He cried for a few more minutes, then went to sleep.

That interruption put a stop to my (half-hearted) plans to do all the usual Saturday downstairs chores tonight, but I still wanted to get some of them done. So I swept and mopped the kitchen and entryway, and straightened up the dining room, hallway, and living room just enough to vacuum them, which I did. Now it is past my bedtime, and I am still staring at the computer screen. Like "Patrick," I am bleary-eyed.