I'm not one to post weekend recaps. Mostly because my weekends usually consist of nothing more exciting than a five-year-old's soccer game and grocery shopping. But this past weekend was different. And I thought some of you might be interested.
First of all, I should state for the record that I hate Thursdays. There's just something about making a mad dash from school to ballet class, where I get to sit and wait with a bunch of stage mothers and AH, that makes me cranky. But this past Thursday, I followed up my ballet dash with a dash to the orthodontist and then the airport to pick up Patrick.
While we were waiting in the orthodontists office, the kids both had to make numerous trips to the restroom. Let's just say that they weren't feeling well. By the time we left, the orthodontist's trash was holding two pairs of soiled kids' underwear.
We made it to the airport with a few minutes to spare. The kids sat in the chairs by security and pointed at every passenger who emerged, asking, "Is that him?"
Just as I was expecting Patrick to appear, my son had another bathroom issue. As we started walking toward the restroom (again) Patrick came through security. The kids ran up for hugs and I warned Patrick, "Careful! He's got a little poop problem."
As it turns out, the kids weren't the only ones who needed to clean up. Patrick's first flight had to make an emergency landing because of the landing gear. He got to slide down the slide and everything. Poor baby. I think I know why that happened though. I think maybe God was trying to punish someone. You'll have to read this to see what I mean.
So sans undies and after lots of wipe downs, we were on our way for dinner at a local pie shop. We then whisked the kids home and into bed. Patrick read them bedtime stories with voices and everything. My son seemed to enjoy it but my daughter whispered to me that Patrick was "weird" and informed him that he didn't need to do voices like that.
We spent the evening chatting and watching a TiVoed Amazing Race.
The kids knocked on Patrick's door and woke him up at some ungodly hour on Friday morning. He hadn't learned to feign sleep and ignore their knocks yet, but he would. We dropped my daughter off at school and headed for the gym.
Then Patrick tried to kill me. Quite literally.
What the hell was I thinking to let him take charge at the gym like that? I'm afraid to show my face there again. He made me jog! Me! Jog! He made me sprint! Can you believe that? He made me do lunges and curls. He damn near made me heart explode.
Next time he visits I'm taking him to the batting cages and inflicting my own brand of torture.
After desperately needed showers, my son and I took Patrick to the hallowed halls of the BX food court on base. This is one of my favorite palces to eat lunch because of all the hotties on their lunch breaks.
I left Patrick alone in line at the sandwich shop for about thirty seconds while my son and I bought a slice of pizza. And somehow, in those thirty seconds, he was able to find someone to gay bash him. Jeeze. I can't leave him alone for a second.
I left Patrick and my sleeping son at home and went to pick up my daughter. We then played t-ball in the backyard. Woo hoo! Little Tuna Girl can hit. All of my dreams are coming true.
We also played on the trampoline. Well, the kids and Patrick played. I covered my eyes in abject terror while Patrick bounced the three of us six feet off the trampoline. After only suffering two or three injuries, we called it a night.
I ordered the kids and the babysitter a pizza and Patrick and I took off for my first adult night out in months.
We had dinner at a local Mexican place. The waitress made Patrick's year by asking to see his ID when he ordered a margarita. I think she maybe just didn't have her contacts in, but whatever.
We then headed to the movies. I waited in line to pick up my Fandangoed tickets while Patrick went to fetch us some snacks. Suddenly my cell phone rang. It was Patrick informing me that the group of guys behind me were "family". Ah, yeah! I could tell by the way they were talking about trying on Elton John's clothes.
We saw Be Cool. It was actually pretty good. Then we headed for ice cream. I'm suddenly realizing just how much we ate this past weekend. I think I'll be avoiding the scale for a while.
We also went to Barnes & Noble where Patrick freaked out yet another suburbanite by leafing through the Joy of Gay Sex. I think he might have also told a man in a hot pink shirt who was perusing bibles that he was "kidding himself" but I'm not sure.
We finally went home to overpay the babysitter and watch part of the Bourne Identity. (Matt Damon. Mmmm.) I got to see Patrick fall asleep and make these cute little snoring sounds before I sent him off to bed.
****more tomorrow
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