Debt

I owe you something. Anything. It's been 11 days since I last posted. I spent Tuesday through Wednesday in New York, specifically northern NJ, midtown, and TriBeCa. I concluded that it is not for me. I did ride in one of those little bicycle cabs, which beats standing in the rain in the cab stand line at Penn Station with seventy-eight tourists and their Hogwarts trunk-sized suitcases and fourteen children. My roll-aboard and I rolled aboard and made it without incident, even though we almost got doored and the cyclist checked his email at least twice on the ride over.



That's me taking my picture while the cyclist checks his email. See that coat? Midwesterners, like me, love this coat. I love it. I get compliments on it all the time. I stuck out like a sore thumb in New York with that coat and my pretty green backpack. They must have thought I had draped myself with an IKEA shower curtain and had a praying mantis on my back. One person actually looked me up and down and sneered, "That's quite a coat." I said thank you, as I have an interest in that person liking me, even if I don't like that person. And if you hate my coat, don't tell me or else we can't be friends.

Sanna, super brave Sanna, start swimming lessons again on Monday. She's been practicing putting her face all the way in the water both in the bath and when we go swimming together. I compliment her bravery and willingness to work at something that's hard for her, but I no longer encourage by suggesting she try again. That turns on her two-steps-back reflex. I can't believe it took me this long to find her two-steps-back button.

Karl's, on the other hand, is not encouragement. Karl's is requirement. Encouragement works fine for him, but once I start pushing past encouragement and into requirement, he's done. While Sanna thrived in an environment of "let's see if you can do it yourself," Karl wants to be coached and encouraged and helped every step of the way, every time. However, when it's time to do something and he no longer has a say in the matter, he fights. When he still thinks he has a choice, we can cajole him into putting on his PJs or sitting properly in his car seat to be buckled, but when the deadline comes and it's time for me to do it, he loses his shit and leaves us to pick up the parts.

My mother's birthday was yesterday. There's a lot to say about that, but for now, I will only mention that I left work early to pick up my kids (who hadn't seen me since Monday night) and take them out for ice cream to celebrate Grandma Suzanne's birthday. It was really nice.