How was your weekend?
My weekend was tough. It’s not really over yet, because I’m writing from my couch, half awake, on my day off while Anna creates something above me in the Loft – but today has been a sack-day, recovering from the roughstuff yesterday and into the evening. I woke up at 3am – my head over-analyzing every moment of the weekend and then healthily zeroing in on my multiple levels of inadequacy as a parent & friend, plotting my escape, searching for the basket I’d leave a wrapped-up-in-a-blanket Anna in, on my neighbor’s doorstep. Sure, she’s 9, but she looks pretty cute when she’s swaddled up. Plus, who doesn’t want a baby (9yearold) in a basket, amiright?
We do highs and lows here, at dinner (so prepare yourself if I invite you) – so I thought instead of just giving you the highlights, I’d give you the low ones too, because Anna is eating dinner and watching a movie, and she hates doing it anyway.
Lows: We went to see the new Star Wars yesterday (Hello, AMAZING – so a little high in the midst of a low) and then to BRGR Bar in Portsmouth for – of course – Burgers, and I told Anna she couldn’t have apple juice with her burger, so she laid on the table. I’m not really a huge fan of laying on the table, and I was tired from the night before, and the night before that – and the last month and a half and likely a year before that. And I’m betting she was tired of all the same stuff. But as that was spinning around in my head – that she was probably beat, that she was probably processing the last month, or the last year, or the last 5 hours, 1 of which was spent crying (again) about her hair, the only thing I could really focus on was the issue at hand, which was mother fucking water instead of apple juice, and that just felt like the most insane reason to lay on the table.
It made me want to get in my shirt.
Instead, though, I burst into tears, asked my friend to pack my food, and sobbing, went and sat in the cold outside. Which I think is likely the adult equivalent of laying on the table. Or getting in your shirt? Especially when you leave your friend to deal with the aftermath of your daughter (and the friendly staff at the restaurant) watching you breakdown and escape. So I just cried for a while, and then cried because I was crying, because it was just apple juice. And water. And moving and sick-stuff and love and a relationship I haven’t totally figured out and no sleep.
Have you guys ever cried because you’re crying? The worst.
Highs: I got a pedicure with my sister on Saturday, and we dragged the kids with us, and when we were done, Anna asked if my nephew could come over, and when I asked him if he wanted to, he said YES! with a level of enthusiasm that made me SO. HAPPY. And he could – because we live so close. And I was able to see my sister celebrated by people that love her that night, including me. And I saw Star Wars. And I had help doing some house-stuff I never would have gotten done without help this weekend. And I ate good food. And read a book I love. And got lots of love. And tonight, while I was half-writing this, a song came on that Anna loves, so I danced around the living room until she gave in, grabbed my hands and jumped in.
And I have a friend that will pack up my food and watch Anna when I escape from a restaurant crying, and then crying because I’m crying.
So. Here’s what I think – fully dehydrated and not-totally-rested: If your daughter lays on the table, and it makes you cry, try to give your friend some guidance before you run for the door. And definitely let yourself cry, so you don’t end up crying because you’re crying. And when it’s all over, pull yourself together and be thankful you have a friend to pack up the food for you.
And if that doesn’t work, even if you don’t feel like it, you can always come over to our house and dance.