Friday: Chateau Revenge

You know, I think as a parent you ride a hard line. For instance, this weekend, I had plans to go to Birmingham for the Christening of my nephew, Rye, and if those plans fell through I had plans to go see THE SILVER SEAS, which is just one of my favorite bands. Their CD release party is tonight, and I have listened their first CD into the ground. I have been listening to the new CD LIKE MAD, and I could totally see myself there in my platform espadrilles and a mini-skirt, but Ivan has the pink eye and when I got in last night he was whimpering feverishly in bed, and the guilt was like a steel-toed boot stamping my heart to a pulp.

I knew I wasn't going to Birmingham. I knew that with young Sloan being one day out from a fever, we weren't putting him in the car. Ultimately, I needed to be at home. I guess it is just what happens.

So, its Friday night and here I sit watching Ivan sleep peacefully on the monitor. I am wearing ratty jeans and my dansko clogs and a wife beater and drinking a tall glass of water and listening to Chateau Revenge and riding the hard line that you ride as a parent. I need to be here, and here I am, but I had cool intentions. Anyway, Chateau Revenge seemed like an apt title for my blog, since I wanted to go see the band tonight AND I am stranded at my chateau. There is not really any revenge to be had for such a helpless situation, but revenge is a word that conveys some aspect of my frustration. I may glare at the cat (THE BEAST) later, just to make myself feel better.

Of course, this morning, my husband woke up with pink eye and no doubt the bearer of illness will visit me in the night and leave me with a crusty pink eye. It will stop me from wearing eyeliner, mascara or concealer. It can only be imagined that I will have to discard all cosmetic products that have been anywhere near my eyes. It is written in the cards, a tightly sealed fate of conjunctivitis and further confinement to my home, which has never seemed smaller that it is now. Sigh.

I did run this morning and got in a Pure Barre session in the afternoon.

Pics of my favorite cousins and a great pic of Ivan blowing the tiny parforce horn that hung on my grandma's kitchen wall as long as I can remember. She never let me blow it and the reason for this is that it sounds exactly like the horrible horn that the Orcs would blow in the The Lord of the Rings. Ivan blew it multiple times this morning to wake his dad, and I felt sorry for all of us.