Cold weather…that’s what’s ahead. The weekend, so the forecast tells us, is not going to be fit for man or beast. Ok…that’s a mild exaggeration, but the idea of going grocery shopping in 27 degree temps is not particularly appealing to me this weekend. That’s why I did the whole hunt and gather thing yesterday…at the grocery store, of course. One small push of activity yesterday afternoon and, cue the French horn fanfare, I don’t really have to go anywhere this weekend for anything other than a desire to go out.
Today they’ve promised me some rain. I’m still waiting. I want the rain. I want it to pause from 2:30 to 3:15 (the window of time during which I wait for J at the corner and then walk him home,) but before and after then I welcome the whole rain thing. I am firmly inclined to spend most of the day in bed…reading!
It is selfish, I know. There are things to do around here. I bought new bookshelves and a bedside table for J’s room. I want to reorganize the pantry because, with all the help I get from the men in my life, a sense of chaos has woven itself on the shelves. I need to gather laundry and, somehow, talk myself into loading washer and dryer… I just don’t feel like it right now.
What am I reading? Mirror Mirror by Gregory Maguire. I am a big fan of the fractured fairy tale. My favorite of his books, so far, is Confessions of an Ugly Stepsister, but I did enjoy Wicked quite a bit. I think it’s because I wasn’t the pretty little girl…I was more of an odd duck…that I enjoy someone else’s version of events. This might be why The True Story of The Three Little Pigs by A. Wolf (as told to Jon Scieszka) is a big favorite around these parts. If you haven’t read it, please find it and read it…it’s an awesome story and kids (even the ones who start out favoring the Pigs’ version of it) enjoy this book.
I know J’s going to be a handful this weekend. He came down from his anxiety-loop yesterday and we went grocery shopping (he tried to finagle something that wasn’t in the list into the cart, but we didn’t budge.) This morning he realized that his brother was still at work. Ah, all is right with the world…we are back to our routine!!!! There was much rejoicing. I know that, with the inability to spend prolonged periods of time in the great outdoors, the young man will get antsy…and I want to be relaxed and rested for it. Can you blame me?
Upstairs, in the kitchen, an electric kettle and several varieties of tea are calling out to me. My book (and the cats) wait for me in my bedroom. In fact, more likely than not the cats have taken over the warm spot I left behind when I got up to write this. I won’t punt them off the balcony (although one DID try to kill me this morning as I was coming down to have my coffee,) but I will move them aside and settle in for a nice read and some tea.
Don’t judge me. I am the mother of two. I have The Great Gonzo (who is acting all Eeyore-ish about summer vacation) and J (who has a Valentine’s Day dance tonight and who seems enthused but might balk at the last second.) I have a nearly-fifty year-old husband who misses me and wants me to “not be frazzled” this weekend. So I’m going (against my nature and my better judgment) to listen to the man’s request and be lazy. I will compete with the cats for the Lazy Trophy, and I will finish my book, drink my tea and then realize it’s time to get ready to pick J up and go into panic mode…
But, until then, I am a big ball of blissful lassitude…the lady in the flannel shirt, the fuzzy socks, the yoga pants and the ringer off (don’t worry…the phone will flash angrily if it rings…)
Off I go…
Leaping into the arms of decadence because we all KNOW Autism can peak when one least expects it, and I might just have bought the wrong kind of Parmesan cheese or the wrong brand of Pita bread, and the anxiety-loop will resume, but I’ll be ready for it…