Thoughts in my brain heading into the weekend, in no particular order:
I started running this week, emphasis on start. HP and I go for a walk around the neighborhood most weekday mornings, usually for 45 minutes to an hour, with a long stop in the park halfway through. On Wednesday I decided I was ready to incorporate a few minutes of jogging during the walk. The first day I ran for three minutes. The next day, I made it for seven. Today, nine. My goal is to run a half marathon, but I am taking it day-by-day. If my knee or foot start hurting (problems I have run into before), I am out. I am taking it slow, hoping to build up little by little and avoid the injuries that have plagued me in the past.
Today is laundry day. I declared Fridays our household laundry day about a month ago because I hated letting the laundry build up for more than a week and I do not liking washing clothes on the weekend. For the most part, laundry is no big deal. We wear clothes multiple times and HP's clothes are small, so we usually only have three loads a week (not counting diapers, of course). I don't mind putting the clothes in the washer or hanging them up to dry. But sorting laundry? Ugh. Putting laundry away? Double ugh.
HP has been such a fun little guy lately. He is understanding so much of what we say and how his world works. The other day I was in the kitchen washing dishes and he was in the entryway happily playing. A few minutes later he walks up to me with one hat around his neck, one on his head, one in his hand, and a shoe in each hand. He then proceeds to hold out the shoes for me to put on and knocked on the garage door. The child knows the getting out of the house routine. When I finished cleaning up the kitchen, we left for the park.
It has been a long week, friends. Henry worked late Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday. I love hanging out with my kid, but I have missed having my husband around to take over parenting during those late afternoon hours. The hour before bedtime is fine on my own; it's the hour before dinner that's the real challenge. HP is at his most needy and I have the least patience to give. I empathize with him--life is hard when you are tired and hungry--but that doesn't change the fact that I need to make dinner. We don't have a learning tower* or a way for him to safely observe at the counter, so he incessantly pulls at my legs begging for me to pick him up so he can see what I am doing. Yesterday I ended up moving the operation down to the ground because I could not handle the whining. I am fairly certain that he took a bite out of at least half of the okra before I sliced it, and there was a moment when he walked through the cast iron pan and got okra all over his feet (don't you all wish you were eating at our house?) but otherwise, it was a great solution.
I had been looking forward to attending a happy hour this evening. Henry was planning to come home early-ish and I was going to head out without a child in tow. Turns out I got the date wrong, and it's not until Sunday. Womp womp. Looks like I'll be celebrating making it to the end of the week with a drink at home. Well, after I re-stain the kitchen counters. Turns out I didn't do a great job the first time and some oil has leaked through and stained a couple of spots. Whoops! Second time's the charm...
*Let's be real: There is no way we are going to spend $200 for a glorified platform with railings. I do love the concept though. We are planning to make something similar, following these instructions, or maybe these since it makes sense to go with something smaller that will better fit in our kitchen. It is on our long list of things to do...