Nick is gone for the weekend.
He's at his high school reunion. We debated all of us going, but it was just easier to have us stay home. He's staying with his sister on her farm which is under crazy renovation to make it more habitable. (I haven't seen her since the you're-just-like-your-mother-oatmeal-incident, and I'm glad the first time isn't while a guest at her house.)
It's kind of terrible timing, because Jordan's best friend David and his mother, J's babysitter, left last Sunday, and my mom left on Wednesday for five days, and Nick left yesterday. Jordan's been a little fragile and cry-y and I think it's because he feels utterly deserted.
So here we are, my boy and I. We started our day by meeting Sam and Amanda in the zoo with their daughter.
Wait. Let me back up.
We started our day getting dressed fairly easily, lulling me into the false sense that this would be easy. And then we adamantly refused everything else. No banana. No shoes. No fleece. NO WATER MUST THROW THE OFFENSIVE SIPPY CUP ON THE GROUND NO NO NO. No to anything that would help us get out the door and to the zoo by 8:30.
We made it not quite on time but they have a kid and they have their own NO PANTS episodes. We watched the monkeys singing (loud!) and looked at pink flamingos and caught a glimpse of the panda. We also threw our carcar through two different fences. Just figuring that Mama would get it for us.
And we had breakfast at Firehook just north of the zoo.
There's this great back patio with tables with umbrellas, and a charming fountain.
The kind of charming fountain that kids like to climb up and stand next to and put their hands in. And then, if they're my son, hoist one leg up and get a shod foot and part of a leg into before their mother reaches them and pulls them down.
There is, should you take your child there, also a big wooden delivery door in back. Which, if it's been left open is perfect for sprinting out of! To better see the garbage! And the garbage truck! GARBAGE TRUCK! ALL I'VE EVER WANTED IN LIFE IS TO BE ABLE TO WALK WHILE THE GARBAGE TRUCK IS RIGHT THERE! AAAAAAAHHHH!
A friend texted just as we were leaving to see if we wanted to meet her family at a park in our neighborhood. Yes! Yesyesyesyes and more yes!
So we headed off, stopping at home for sunscreen and water and to drop off the stroller.
Which meant walking. Which really meant stopping in every sidewalk garden box, patting every tree, and oh, the ramp! and any detour you might imagine because LOOK THERE IS A CRACK IN THE SIDEWALK HOLY COW WOULD YOU LOOK AT THAT?
We arrived about 37 hours later. Fortunately, they were still there.
It had gotten sunny and gorgeous, and shortly after we arrived, my friend's husband (who is also a friend, and I never know how to say this. The husband friend?) offered to head over to the convenience store and get drinks. And would either of us like a soda or something?
The wife friend suggested that if they had Mike's Hard Lemonade, that might be nice. She was joking. Sort of.
I was all, yes, liquor, yes! I know alcohol is not a solution, but boy, did it sound good.
We looked at our watches. It was right about 11 am. (Which, after all, would be past five in Europe.)
We ended up with water and juice. Responsible parenting and adulthood and all.
But let me tell you, I am tired. Physically and emotionally tired. I don't know how single parents do it. I really don't.