One of _those_ phone calls
Jul. 18th, 2005 11:12 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
drwex... or, why we call him "Danger Moose".
Pygment has classes Saturday AMs. I do kidcare while she's at class and it's my biggest extended block of solo parenting all week. Unlike Pygment, who likes to take the kids out and distract them, my strategy is to hunker down and try to survive. Out in the wilds of a playground or Chuck E Cheese they can escape me, get into expensive and dangerous messes, et cetera. In the home environment we have books and toys and games and crayons and block and Play-dough and food and bicycles and all kinds of stuff. Still, it's an adventure and the kids miss mama. Thus Pygment tends to call home when she's leaving class to give me and the boys hope of imminent rescue.
This week Liam has been sick. Poor kidlet has had bad sleep, coughing. He's been lethargic and generally out of sorts. So Saturday AM Pygment calls to tell me she's heading home and inquire how things are.
I say, in a remarkably calm voice, "Well, Liam is feeling better. And if there was some place along the way that you could stop to pick up some Super Glue, that'd be good."
Postscript: the damage was reparable or not terribly significant. It was just the juxtaposition to say "Yep, he's himself again."
Pygment has classes Saturday AMs. I do kidcare while she's at class and it's my biggest extended block of solo parenting all week. Unlike Pygment, who likes to take the kids out and distract them, my strategy is to hunker down and try to survive. Out in the wilds of a playground or Chuck E Cheese they can escape me, get into expensive and dangerous messes, et cetera. In the home environment we have books and toys and games and crayons and block and Play-dough and food and bicycles and all kinds of stuff. Still, it's an adventure and the kids miss mama. Thus Pygment tends to call home when she's leaving class to give me and the boys hope of imminent rescue.
This week Liam has been sick. Poor kidlet has had bad sleep, coughing. He's been lethargic and generally out of sorts. So Saturday AM Pygment calls to tell me she's heading home and inquire how things are.
I say, in a remarkably calm voice, "Well, Liam is feeling better. And if there was some place along the way that you could stop to pick up some Super Glue, that'd be good."
Postscript: the damage was reparable or not terribly significant. It was just the juxtaposition to say "Yep, he's himself again."
