Highlights from the weekend are as follows:
Friday night: friends came to visit. Hung out and played Uno.
Saturday: took the little man to family day at the Walker Art Center. Especially enjoyed the showing of The Adventures of Prince Achmed.
later Saturday: had a late lunch at the always fabulous Vo’s to celebrate the birthday of my boyfriend’s father (with their family). Missed out on cake afterwards, though, as it was little man’s naptime.
later still: another set of friends stopped by the house. Kicked back with a few old Kids in the Hall episodes. Somehow they seemed funnier when I was younger. Oh well.
Sunday: ran errands, played outdoors, got clubbed over the head.
So the only glitch in an otherwise fine weekend was that blasted daylight savings time. I didn’t pay it much mind before my son came along. Sure, I may have grumbled a bit, but never before raised my voice with those vehemently opposed to the practice. Any change in routine can cause my beautiful (but unpredictable) son to straddle that thin line between contentment and chaos. Most of the day was good, periodically punctuated by brief meltdowns. But the evening ended in chaos. I was reading on the couch while he played nearby. Out of the corner of my eye I saw him approach. Noticed the big grin on his face, but not the object in his hand. Until he raised it up then crashed it down upon my skull. For some reason my darling son saw fit to club me with a vacuum cleaner attachment. One the size of a baseball bat. He seemed quite alarmed by my reaction (a startled yelping accompanied by some cursing followed by a scolding and timeout). When I tried to calm him and explain why mommy was upset he only curled up in a sobbing little heap. Eventually he allowed me to hug him in the rocking chair. I was surprised when he fell asleep in my arms. It was a good two hours before bedtime, pre-daylight savings, and one hour post. Wound up putting him to bed without a bath (again, deviating from routine). Hopefully we’ll settle into a new, less violent schedule soon.