Meatballs & Beer

It took three weeks, but last Sunday marked the first time that I found myself with both children, while Kitty went out and tried to pretend she was an actual human being with some semblance of a life.

Poor poser Kitty.

That left me with both kids for more than ten minutes for the very first time.  Alone.  And I did it all without crying.  Thanks to beer.  Lots of beer.

Finn had a stellar day, laying waste to every playroom and lego set in the Tri-State area.  Mostly our playroom and our lego set, but who's counting as they're cleaning it all up?  Certainly not me.  I was too busy watching my son have a blast with his friends, hanging out with my new daughter as she adorably slept in the Bjorn, eating meatballs with my buddy at the meatball-making/eating contest at the coffee shop across the street and drinking beer.  Lots of beer.

After all of this awesomeness, and after I put Edie to sleep in relatively painless fashion, I crawled into Finn's bed with him to bask in the gloriousness of all of the fun we had had.  After pointing out that a Sunday with three distinct play dates, capped off by meatballs, sugar cookies and hot chocolate may well qualify as one of his best days ever, we high-fived right as Mommy came home and upstairs to his room.

Smiling, Finn looked over my shoulder at Mommy to tell her about what a great day we had.  Only he didn't tell her that.  Instead, he asked, "Mommy, do you want to get into my bed?"  Followed by - when Mommy nodded her head - "OK, Daddy, get out."

Oh well.  It was fun while it lasted.  Perhaps I'll have more luck with Edie.

And if not, at least I still have beer.