What Ben did this weekend:
Canyoneering in the Italian Alps. In case you don’t know what “canyoneering” is, it’s basically following a drop of water through some remote, nearly inaccessible area. Canyoneering usually involves using ropes to rappell down waterfalls, seeing sights that only a few hundred people have ever seen, and terrifying me.
What I did this weekend:
- Spent 80 minutes soothing Sophie to sleep. At each nap-time.
- Watched “Elmo’s Potty Time” twice a day, every day. And actually found it funny — that may be the surest sign that I need more adult companionship. But this particular episode of Sesame Street is brought to you by the letter P and the number 2. Really.
- Circled the beach three times, seeking parking.
- Watched my good friend almost crying in frustration at her own daughter’s terrible twos, and felt impotent.
- Watched Sophie share her bike-trailer with another friend (“the bike couch!”), grinning and reading to each other from the little books I keep in the bike-trailer. This was so cute, it almost mitigates the mundanity of the rest of this list.
Ben says that when he returns, he’ll have to watch Sophie a bit so that I can go out for some grappa. He’s right. But it is almost four months of Sophie-watching that he owes me, now, much more than the bit of one grappa-outing.
I don’t actually want any grappa or even canyoneering. I would like, though, to be able to go swimming in the ocean that is a mile from my house. Just for fifteen minutes; maybe even ten — but I find it physically impossible to keep a toddler safe at the beach AND go swimming myself. I keep telling myself there’s only one more month of single-parenting left, only one more month.