Sunday, March 4, 2012

sunday night

it's 7:38 p.m. henry is asleep. william and greg are upstairs playing with legos. the dishes are done. the house is clean-- even the bathroom. and i am sitting in my favorite spot-- the little couch in the kitchen. i can hardly believe it. oh yes, and there are brownies baking in the oven. somehow, once again, the baking fell to me. it's like, if i don't do it, there will never be brownies in this house, so, i trudge ahead.

of course, i put in a half cup less flour than called for, put the batter in a smaller pan than what i was supposed to, and tried the convection setting again, which meant i very quickly nearly burned the top while the inside was still like a pudding. so they probably won't turn out right, but i'll likely make them gone by tomorrow just the same.

today was uneventful. the only event being that henry and william napped-- at the same time. this, i don't think, has ever happened. it pretty much just made it easier to clean the bathroom and remove some of the deadly chemicals from under the kitchen sink and put them in a less inviting spot. but those are good things to get done.

and this upcoming week-- greg goes to lyngby (pronounced something like loong-boo) on tuesday and wednesday. about an hour and half northeast of roskilde. for a training. i'm mentally preparing myself for two long days. it's sometimes troubling to me how much mental preparation goes into knowing it will be just me and the guys for a good 12 hour stretch. they are in such different places in their development, that it's hard to please both at the same time, which means i'm usually not. either henry is balancing on the piano bench on his own or falling out of some drawer he's gotten himself into or william is in his own little imagination world playing with race cars or doing a lego battle, asking every few minutes if i would like to play with him. this system works okay, but it's easy to think that neither guy is getting the attention he should be getting from a stay-at-home parent, and it's also easy for me to feel like i need a break-- because much of time the juggling feels like waiting tables. you're in the weeds or you have a unexpected burst of free time where you stuff a bread roll in your mouth, but when these things happen is completely out of your hands. in the end, your feet hurt and you probably have food in your hair. and mostly, you just want to sit down and complain a little about your day. okay, but here the rewards that come along with this work are much better than the tips. so-- i can do a breakfast, lunch, and dinner shift on tuesday and wednesday. i can. i really can. i might just complain a little after it's over.


kat said...

I can pretty much relate to all the little bits you've mentioned here. I'll be thinking of you working your never-ending shift, slaving away trying to please your customers!

greg|regan said...

thanks kat! i think it was easier when william could run out the door and find a friend. here he's kind of stuck with me and henry. hopefully we can get him into a school soon!

Kit Nat said...

If am sure you will do great! Do you guys have a phone number yet and yes Guinness does taste different in Ireland than the US, much better!