So Spring has sprung. I’m ambivalent about spring, I love it and hate it, I love the sunny, warm, winter is over, burn the down-jacket, want to spend time outside on the lovely blossomy flowered fields days like today but I hate, hate, hate, the chilly, wet, dreary, windy days that show up every other day. Spring is a schizophrenic season. I never know what to wear!
I ditched the house today in favor of coffee with a friend. I felt bad about it, I even cancelled an appointment last minute (an appointment that I actually had completely forgotten about), I just couldn’t bear the thought of talking about anything construction related. It’s beautiful out, I needed a break. So I had coffee with a friend (after the gym, so I wouldn’t feel too bad about it) and then we went shopping for kids’ clothes. Shopping for my children is surprisingly satisfying, for roughly the same amount of money that I would spend on a single pair of (very nice) shoes for myself I bought each of them several really cute, springy, outfits.
Tomorrow we’re taking the kids to see the Walking with Dinosaurs show. It looks amazing, though I’m really worried that it’ll be too scary for them and the Husband and I will have to take turns standing outside with them… considering how much the tickets cost I’m seriously praying they’ll love it or I’m going to get an earful.
There’s no spring break here, so next week the kids are off for a very long Easter weekend, basically from Thursday to Tuesday (included), and since I just realized this I have organized not one thing to keep us entertained and not-homicidal. Also, my babysitter whom I love, whom the kids love, and who could almost always help me out in a pinch (like when the kids are sick she comes over in the morning even for just an hour so I can get out of the house and not go completely stir crazy) has managed to get her dream job (as a preschool teacher… to each his own!) so her available hours are now very limited. And I’m very sad. Obviously I was “completely delighted” and “so happy for her” when she told me, and then I spend the evening staring forlornly at my wine glass. The Husband went so far as to ask if she would be good as an assistant, so he could hire her mornings and I could get her afternoons… but she’s found her “dream job”… dammit!
Anyway, back to Easter, one of my sisters has an apartment in Berlin, which she rents out to tourists and in a kismet-y turn of events the apartment is free and some friends of ours are going to Berlin for Easter weekend so I figured we could go as well… if only I could find a way to get there without having to take out a loan (flights to Berlin are more expensive than one would imagine) or drive for 15 hours…
I’m in the middle of one of the most painful periods I’ve had since I “became a young lady” back in the late eighties. The Husband yesterday was found muttering something along the lines of he doesn’t understand how women don’t admit they’re pms-ing while they’re pms-ing and only apologize for it later and what the hell good does that do… or something along those lines. What he doesn’t understand is that the feeling of having one’s uterus in an unrelenting vise, while feeling faint, headachy, and just generally disgusting, is not conducive to accepting male wisecracks of any sort, in fact my gut (ha, ha) reaction is to slam his balls repeatedly with a bat or other such object.
Lastly, I want a new car. And though I realize that buying a new car (and by new car, I actually mean used car) when in the middle of the longest, most expensive, god-awful house renovation of all time is probably not my most genial idea, still, I want a new car. I now have a Prius, I love it, I’m happy with it, but I need a bigger car. We just don’t have much choice as far as “mom cars” are concerned, here in Italy. I like the Renault Espace, it’s a seven-seater, it’s big enough but still park-able. Now if only I didn’t have to rob a bank to buy it…
Ok, I’m done with the weekly ramblings. I apologize for my overly enthusiastic use of quotation marks in this post, and though I should also apologize for the excessive use of alliteration, I won’t, cause there’s little I love more than alliterating when I write.
Wishing you a wonderful weekend!