This has been a rough week.
First it was the school meeting and the fact that evenings have not gone as smoothly this week as they had been.
Then, Wednesday night, RockStar goes to see a friend's band. That's cool because how're you going to get to be a rock star unless you are out there rubbing shoulders with other musicians? But at 2:30 in the morning when I woke up and could immediately tell he wasn't home, it wasn't quite so cool anymore. He had left five hours earlier, which seemed like an over abundance of time for shoulder rubbing. I checked my cell...no text. I called his phone...and got voice mail. I texted him...no response.
I laid in bed wondering what exactly I should/could do, and decided, not much. I'd have to deal with it in the morning if he was not home yet, but I couldn't go looking for him with an 8-year-old sleeping down the hall. And it was a bit premature to call the hospitals and police stations.
Fortunately, about 15-20 minutes later, he called. He had been asked to play with the band. That's awesome, but he should have texted to let me know just how late he'd be. And by that point, I of course couldn't fall asleep, even knowing RockStar hadn't been mugged on the way to his car or hauled off to jail for smoking weed.
I was seriously tired the next day. It was bad enough losing a couple hours of sleep, but I'd also taken an antihistamine at bedtime, and that puts me in a fog all by itself. I was a zombie by lunchtime.
Since there's no rest for the weary, that night just had to be Literacy Night. It's a school event where the kids go from table to table doing literacy-themed activities. I had promised Dylan I would go. At least I didn't have to come up with words from a cupful of Alphabits cereal. (Maybe Bed. Snooze. Yawn.) Instead, I huddled with the other moms while our kids raced from table to table. I couldn't even tell you what we talked about or if I held up my end of the conversation.
As soon as we were home, I relinquished all parenting duties and went to bed. By 8:00pm. And slept hard.
Although I probably got close to 10 hours, I still felt out of sorts today and couldn't wait to get home. Half a day of meetings and an unsuccessful work errand later, I made it home and immediately put on my PJs. I settled onto the couch and convinced RockStar it was his job to get Dylan in bed. I would casually relax and surf the 'net.
It became apparent that it was not going to go quite that way as Dylan chattered away about Ninjagos. He was all around pretty chatty because he had lost Friday night TV privileges by lying earlier in the week. (Lying, by the way, is at the very top of the criminal infractions list in our house).
Anyways, back to the Ninjagos. Dylan has a birthday coming up and he was angling for some Ninjagos, but I told him we've already bought his birthday presents. However, I casually suggested I would buy him a Ninjago if he would learn how to swallow a pill (figuring it would give us more medication options). He immediately cried that he had tried as hard as he could (months ago), stood up and ran to his room, and shut the door.
At least while he was in there I had a little peace.
When he came out, he wanted to shoot marshmallows with the Bow and Mallow he earned last year selling Cub Scout Popcorn. While shooting marshmallows is a suitable alternative to TV, I wanted him to go in the backyard with Princess Nikita. He wanted to go in the front yard where there's more light.
A little background knowledge here: Princess Nikita of the Great White North is a Siberian Husky. Her goal in life is to run off and join a sled pack. It's something she tries to do every single time the front door opens. Every. Single. Time. Understandably, I get a bit nervous when the front door opens. Making the backyard a better place - in my opinion - to shoot marshmallows.
Despite the fact that I obviously outrank him with the title of Mommy, Dylan did not listen to my request to go out to the backyard and went out to the front porch instead.
Paranoid, I tried to keep Nikki otherwise occupied, fearful that when Dylan came back in she would seize her escape. I was trying to get her to lay down when tragedy struck. She bumped the coffee table and my wine glass fell off the table. Don't worry, it was practically empty so almost no wine was sacrificed (thank God!). But the glass shattered. I'd say that it recalled the terrible wine glass incident of New Year's Eve, but this was a very basic, ordinary wine glass - probably $2.00 at Target. Maybe $3.00.
Nonetheless, it wasn't a peaceful experience.
RockStar is now reading to Dylan but I can hear that it's not going smoothly. I can hear the haggling. It's not going to be an asleep by 9 o'clock night.
So, it's not quiet, either.