Chilly Feet

Not literally (although I did think I had frostbitten toes after my first bike ride of the season this past weekend).

But freaked-out-edly.

Me, a little bit. I look at beau in his crib and he is so happy, and he really is just a fabulous little two-year-old pudding, the best and most amazing little guy, and the thing is, he is NOT going to like this. Not at first, anyway. Gertie was a charming and happy flirtacious little 20-month-old when beau popped her bubble, and now she's difficult kid supremo numero uno. her first reaction to anything is nearly always no, I don't wanna, you can't make me. I mean, that's probably a personality defect, but who knows?

So I'm a little but going hey, why are we thinking about rocking the boat here?
Poptart says, isn't this going a little fast? (He says this as he contemplates the upcoming rash of large fees.) I say, it will slow down a LOT once it's started. He says well, i maybe need to have it slow down a bit now. We are going away together, just the two of us, this weekend (second time since the advent of Beau! And I could probably count the times since Bart showed up on one hand...maybe two.) Let's sit and talk.

So we will. And the minute I said of course, let's, things relaxed. We are still having meeting #1 (the introductory meeting) with the social worker tomorrow am. I think that will get us talking. Otherwise we tend to do more than we talk..and if he doesn't want to address a subject I really hate bringing it up, and he avoids the strangest things (witness the baseball/soccer incident). I know what he means, though--it's just being so incredibly exhausted and not wanting to DEAL.

In other news, the reason we're away is a writing conference for me. I have a few meetings with magazine editors--one in particular that I REALLY want to write for--that I'm really excited about. I should be prepping. I need brilliant pitch ideas, and I need 'em now!