You may have noticed that I’ve titled this post similarly to yesterday’s post. That’s because I realized I was counting wrong. I never have figured out the definitive way to count days until a specific event. Do you count the day you’re on? Or is the next day when you start counting? Of course, I turned to the internet for help, and of course, the internet was wrong. We leave for China on March 4, which is next Wednesday. Today is Tuesday. Eight days.
Anyhoo, I spent much of today planning for things in the future. We have a house project coming together this week, in fact. Today, I paid a guy to install sprinklers so our new yard doesn’t die because of global warming. Tomorrow, an electrician comes to put in can lights, and another guy is coming to put hardwoods in a carpeted room that the pets decided was a good place to vomit, pee and poop. Thursday and Friday, paint. Saturday and Sunday, built-ins installed in our basement. Did I mention we’re leaving for China next week?
I’ve also been driving my friends crazy by asking them if they have their summer camp schedules squared away yet. It’s late February, I know. But I DO HAVE MY REASONS. Summer swim signups start while we’re in China, and they sell out faster than Radiohead tickets. I asked the nice woman at parks and rec if I could get a gander at the program guide before it went to print, and she said sure. I’ve sent a list of barcodes to a friend and asked her if she’ll sign us up. I’ve pestered two other friends about which weeks they want to do the wilderness camp? And the basketball camp? August 3rd through the 7th? July 20th through the 24th? WHY DON’T YOU KNOW YET?
To their credit, my friends have been remarkably patient with my persistent requests. Sort of like how you’re patient with someone who’s had a traumatic brain injury.
It’s like planning for your own death, all this months-ahead scheduling. I’m assuming that I’ll be a half-wit when we get back from China, so I’m making sure that Bini has things to do when I’m sitting in the corner, rocking repeatedly. Also, I don’t want him home all summer long begging for iPad time or trying to hit his brother.
I’m a little freaked out about how Bini and Kid X are going to get along. Or not get along. People tell me to expect jealousy and tears and fighting, but I have a skewed view of the whole sibling thing. I was the oldest and I loved my younger siblings and was a model sister. Kind of a lot like the Julie Andrews character from “The Sound of Music.” (Really. My mom says so.) Bini is a wild card. And obviously, I don’t know this other kid yet. It could be a disaster.
OK. Ready for the non sequitur? I now have a selfie stick, which, ostensibly, I bought for China. Mainly, it’s being used so that I can try to master the whole selfie thing (not working), and also, so my kid can don his pretend safety glasses and take 52 pictures of himself. Incidentally, this study says men who post a lot of selfies may be psychopaths. Good thing I’m not a dude.
the swift kick 