I had a rather gloomy weekend for one reason or another, but it looks like the various members of my family have conspired to remind me that life is wonderful, thank you very much.
On Sunday afternoon I just took to my bed for a while to watch an unexpectedly sweet little chick flick while my darling husband touched up my car with a replenishment of anti-freeze and a special low-temperature windshield wiper fluid, fixed a computer issue that I’ve been pestering him about (intermittently) for months, and made dinner after having grocery shopped and picked up a bag of my favorite Ghiradelli 60% chocolate chips. If that is not beautiful, beautiful love, I don’t know what is.
Today M came bounding home from school having survived her first puberty film viewing unscathed. She was downright giddy with relief, I think, and hearing her report about it and the ensuing conversation gave me the generalized but distinct impression that I have not sucked at this whole talking-about-puberty thing. Parents, everywhere, please take a moment to ponder all of those aspects of parenting at which you do not suck. Really. We tend to dwell on the negative, so when you sense that there’s been some success, however minor or possibly even infinitesimal, choose to cherish it. Pretend that it is wine that you are rolling over your tongue to see if you can recognize those cherry high notes the label talks about (I never can–I only get the oak part–everything else baffles me). Anyway, possibly, you can pour an actual glass of wine or grab some chocolate to represent your Small Parenting Success and then savor it, literally and figuratively. Yeah, go do that. Lucky for me, I have plenty of chocolate.
And all afternoon, little J was begging me to please, please watch Downton Abbey. I am not even kidding. I had mentioned over the weekend that a friend was watching with her whole family, and it occurred to me that they are so subtle and restrained about the inappropriate stuff that the girls could probably view it for the history/scenery/costumes while some issues would mostly fly over their heads. I think I was just saying this to Cute W, but J had overheard me, and apparently her teacher is a fan of Downton Abbey (I can only imagine J asked about this herself–she’s early to school and enjoys eeking out small tête-à- têtes before the rest of the class arrives) and by the end of school she was Simply Dying to try an episode. Of course in the interim I had become enraged with Downton Abbey for adding to my weekend gloom (and I will say no more for those of you who watch online later), but I was still pretty excited. Cute W was working late, so it was lazy-frozen-dinner-picnic-and-Downton-Abbey, which pretty much rocked, even more so with J’s observations on characters:
Daisy: “Oh, I love her! She is my favorite, favorite, favorite! I think she likes that boy.”
Anna: “I feel like she’s the only one on his [Mr. Bates’s] side.”
Sybil: “She’s just all, ‘Can’t we please have peace and be nice?'”
Mrs. O’Brien, “She’s just mean, and she looks mean, too.”
Edith: “I feel like she would take just about any man.”
A thoroughly entertaining way to spend an early evening. And I’m probably going to regret this in the future as I remember each plot twist moments before I see them happen again, but J survived the heartbreak of Star Wars Episode II: Revenge of the Sith, and any of the romantic issues can just serve as preparation for her 5th grade puberty film viewings, right? Whatever. It’s too much fun to stop now, so try not to judge me. Or, at least, not so I can hear it!