Spent the weekend mostly alone with our new puppy, and you know what? I’m exhausted. No word of a lie. I must be sleeping like shit to feel this way. I think I can sense the puppy moving about in my room at night, and I’m not falling entirely to sleep. Looking forward to a time when he can be left unattended to sleep on the main floor, rather than at the foot of my bed where I can hear every yawn, stretch, scratch, harrumph, and puppy fart. The jingle jangle of the collar cuts right into my ears at night. Good thing he’s cute, because he is a whole lot of incidental bother.
In other news I got to watch a whole lot of The Grand Tour uninterrupted. Which was very pleasant. Seasons four got fewer episodes, but each one feels like a 90 minute movie. I had given some though to immediately rewatching Clarkson’s Farm, but I can give that a few weeks or a month.
I took my oldest daughter to a birthday party filled with her ten year old Male classmates and they were absolute savages. My kids are no angels, but this was madness. No wonder her former grade four teacher never took those boys on field trips. They were a menace. Scaling walls, jumping from balconies, fighting, screaming, disappearing out onto the grounds, putting their meals into their faces on a dare. It was bizzare. Gentle parenting gone awry, or is it so passive now that it’s borderline neglect? I was ready to burst at the seams. BUT, I remembered it’s not my circus, not my monkeys, and I could walk away and sit down in the shade, as I was there just to make my daughter feel safe, and not to police twelve ten year old boys. Went a lot smoother after that. For me at least. Ha.
Stay healthy out there.
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