Weekend Update

Saturday

Husband took YoungestBoy to soccer game at 10:00 a.m.

Husband went on an outing with church volunteers to dump old furniture. Why, please tell me, why do people donate their ugly 1970s couches to church youth groups? Those couches are now at Goodwill.

Husband returns home at 2:00 p.m., exhausted. I leave, saying, "When do you want to see my cute face again?" He says, "It's up to you. Whatever you think."

As I drive off, I think, well, I'll aim for 4:00 p.m., though if I get home by 5:00 p.m., that'd be okay.

I drop off film to be developed at Costco, then head over to the children's consignment shop where I drop off a huge, black trash bag full of clothes to sell. Then I browse the racks and find new clothes for Babygirl. Since she's decided to be potty-trained, I cannot dress her in overalls and shirts that snap. Oops. That's what I get for shopping in advance.

I return to Costco to pick up film, then drive toward home, stopping at the spur of the moment at Bargain Street Liquidators, which is going out of business. By the time I get home, it's 4:45 p.m., and when I walk through the door, husband says, "Why didn't you have your cell phone on?"

I never turn it on when I go out for a few hours. I have it set so my home telephone is forwarded to my cell phone and my husband hates that I get those calls instead of him. So, he usually tells me not to turn it on. He was annoyed because apparently he'd had appointments set up--one for 5:00 p.m. with a young couple who is joining the church, and one for 6:00 p.m. for a hospital visit.

Well, uh, hello? Why didn't you say so when I left? He was unhappy that he hadn't taken a shower yet, but uh, hello? When I'm home, I take a shower while the baby sleeps or while she watches television. It's not exactly a Fear Factor stunt to shower while you have a house full of kids.

I could tell he was annoyed, so I just went about my business, feeding kids, cleaning messes, showering kids, putting stuff away. There was a bit of confusion about whether or not we were going swimming--the pool was opened for two final days, a sort of bonus this year--and I asked the kids, "Do you want to swim?" and they said, "Yes!" and then husband said, "I need the car," and then he said we could drop him off.

I did not want to go to the pool with all four kids. Although the temperature might have reached seventy degrees and the pool is heated to eighty-six degrees, Babygirl is a slender thing without any body fat to keep her warm. I worried that she'd get chilled. But we went.

We only stayed an hour and a half or so, and most of that time, we were the only people at the pool. The boys had a great time, swimming, putting each other in headlocks, fighting over rules in their made-up games. Babygirl spent the whole time in the wading pool, so I didn't have to actually immerse myself in water, which made me very happy.

I found being at the pool at this late date an odd experience. At one point, a "V" of ducks flew overhead, migrating south, I suppose and the dichotomy of this autumn ritual combined with the smell of chlorine gave me the sense of being in a time warp. I felt sad for what's behind us, melancholy about the chill in the air and the darkness of the early evening.

But the kids frolicked and spent all their money on goodies from the vending machines--all items were twenty-five cents off, so they thought they had scored. The left with a renewed stash of candy.

So that's that. No more summer. No more swimming. Ahead of us: Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas--which will be here before we know it--and my 40th birthday. I can hardly stand this sensation of time rushing past my head in such a loud roar.

Sigh.

Today, I almost played hooky from church, but at the last minute, decided to hurry and go. Babygirl went in her underpants--the first time in public without a diaper. How odd that my baby has decided to be so grown up. She threw a huge fit on the way home. She did not want to get into her carseat, so after I gave her a choice (get in your seat or I'll put you in your seat), she cried pitifully all the way home. She's hoarse from the cold she's getting over, so she sounded especially sad. Then, when we got home, she wanted to go for a walk and hung on the doorknob and wailed at the injustice of life until I said, "Well, I'm going upstairs," and then she followed me and eventually--after more tears and foot stomps--consented to let me rock her and put her to bed.

My husband had returned home from church by then, so I left to go buy flowers for my porch and entryway. The summer Gerber daisies and petunias have died. I ended up at the grocery store which has an attached nursery where I purchased a few groceries and enough flowers to repot everything. When I returned home, Babygirl was awake, so I brought her and YoungestBoy into the front yard with me while I worked. (The twins had gone to their twin-friends'house.) YoungestBoy pushed Babygirl in the stroller--up the driveway and then down, really fast. Then they rode bikes up and down, Babygirl demonstrating courage I didn't realize she possessed.

I mowed the lawn, planted the flowers, trimmed the ivy, swept the walkway, cleaned the porch, rearranged everything and by then, my husband was awake from his nap and he ended up finishing the driveway sweeping. Babygirl needed some attention by then.

So, the day flew by. The weekend whizzed past. The summer went by in a blink. And now my evening's almost gone, too, and I haven't even had a chance to read. But at least my porch is full of purple mums and lively pansies and yellow flowers. Hidden deep in the pots is the promise of spring--mini-daffodils which will cheer me on the cold, damp, dark days of March, which should be arriving in approximately 23 minutes.