Usually I try to write these posts on Sunday nights, but that just hasn't been possible lately. We fall into an exhausted heap when Cal leaves the house on Sundays. Neel was ready to go to be at 9 last night, and really, he started asking, "Is it bedtime yet?" at around 7:30! I made him stay up until 9:30 and watch some of the Grammys. But still. We're old. And tired.
And then I had the weirdest dreams last night. I think it was a combo of not sleeping well (We keep my phone in our room now in case Cal texts and the damn think kept pinging all night long.) a lot of Harry Potter this weekend (was everyone watching it?) and obsessively checking weather blogs (we're forecast for a tiny bit of snow this week). A man comes to the somewhat isolated cottage where we live (?), and it's dark and swirly outside. He tells us that there are stage four evacuations (?) in place, which I take to either mean voluntary or mandatory (including meaning: have your ID on you). He only spoke to us as an afterthought, he was there to check on a drain in the street in front of the cottage, and when he got out and jumped in the drain, he turned into a little pug.
Look, the last thing anyone wants to hear about is another person's dreams, but there you are.
So. Try explaining to your teen who loves being with his friends that you think he's actually an introvert. When Cal gets home on the weekends, he slips immediately into hunker down mode. We had some confusion with his carpool on Friday that had everyone stressed, but getting him in the door (after we fed him, of course) was the best feeling. I really think he wouldn't leave if he didn't have to. I suspected this might be the case, and I've tried hard not to pepper him with questions the minute he walks in the door. His needs vs my needs. It's hard. It shouldn't be, but it is.
All things being equal, it was a much better weekend this weekend, for our mini-unit, at least. I did cry, but we went to see a friend's son in a performance of Shadowlands, so I think that's fair. But painful experiences are swirling around those I hold dear, and that can't help but touch on us. We talk it out a lot in our family, but some of these stories aren't meant to be shared. I'm feeling in a funk and like I'm not creating a very lovely space for you to visit. No deep thoughts, no wit and charm, just me. I think I'll work on clearing out my to-do list and getting some things done today and this week. That'll help, right?
Finally, the memorial service for the young girl I mentioned last week is today. If you could spare a thought for her family and all the people who loved her, especially the teens who are grappling with this kind of loss for perhaps the first time, I know that that kind of love can truly be felt in this world.