I was happy to have the four-day weekend. I not only needed some mental downtime, I needed a little kid fix. It's like Coke Zero: I go through withdrawal.
So I was happy to go to Ethan's Thanksgiving feast at his school on Wednesday. Lots of little kids singing about multi-culturalism, followed by a meal of turkey and watered-down apple tea in the lunchroom. I got to sit next to Ethan and right across from a 4-year-old. Hee-hee-hee.
I was not happy to pull my calf muscle on Wednesday afternoon. I was 2 minutes into a fast run and was thinking, "You know, I can still run a 6-minute pace for at least a few minutes--." Crap. The >50 Curse strikes again.
I was happy to spend Thanksgiving with Jen and the boys and my aunts and uncles and cousins and nieces and nephews.
Even though Samuel and Ethan are too big for it, I still love to play hide-and-seek and pull-the-kid-along-the-floor-by-his-feet. I tried not to blatantly ignore my own kids, but when little Ella asked me to be her assistant on her gingerbread house, I was like, Samuel and Ethan who?
Poor Samuel and Ethan. I've abandoned them for younger, trophy kids. Years of therapy are ahead for all of us.
I still love you, Samuel and Ethan. I just have an addiction.