It’s hard to be back at work after a great weekend. Especially when my boss has returned after being away for a few days. It’s been crazy busy all morning – the kind of day when I have at least seven things in process on my desk at any given time and, more often than not, am juggling two calls at once. I am forcing myself to take a break because I was starting to get bitchy. OK, not really starting - more like continuing.

I had a nice, relaxing Saturday, puttering around the house and hanging with the kids. After the baby’s nap we took a creek hike (the baby’s first – which in my book is a big deal) and then went out to dinner for a little pre-Father’s Day family thing. We went to visit my good pals at the poorly-named Fiesta Jalapenos and had a really good dinner. Then we went with my brother and sister in law to hear some jazz on the square and get ice cream. Because it was evidently a day for firsts (although, when you are 19 months old, isn’t every day a day for firsts?), the baby also had her Very First Ice Cream Cone. She had a blast but we were still finding sticky spots yesterday. What was funny to me was that she was totally covered in melty goop, but a couple of times she dripped the tiniest drop on her leg and had to wipe it off right away. Nevermind the hands, chin, nose, feet or hair - we simply can’t have drips on our legs.

Sunday was The Man’s first Father’s Day. I wanted him to have a stress-free day of just enjoying being a dad, so I surprised him with a visit to the zoo. For me, taking your kid to the zoo for the first time is one of those ultimate parent experiences. There are just so many new things to see, so many things to point at and talk about. I wanted him to have a day when he had nothing to do except be a dad, so he could enjoy who she is at this stage and help her to soak it all in. I packed a picnic of some of his favorites and told him to get in the car (and not much of anything else). I think he and the baby had a good time. I know I did.

I have mixed feelings about zoos. Some of the exhibits are so depressing-looking that it is hard to imagine the animals having any sort of quality life there, but then some of them are really impressive. And I know that zoos do a lot for education and conservation. If, that is, the people visiting take the time to notice. If you ever want to overhear ignorant comments*, please listen in on parents talking to their kids at the zoo.

At the same time, I very much enjoyed having a day walking around with two of my favorite people, showing the baby lots of new things (bears taking baths, hippos walking, giraffes drinking water, flamingoes being pink and squawky, etc.) and getting her to make sea lion noises.

*I am reminded of the time when The Man and I were in DC and visited the Natural History Museum. Looking at a stegosaurus skeleton we overheard the following interaction between the couple next to us:

HER: What are those fins** for?
HIM: I dunno. Maybe it's to keep rocks from falling on them.

Because falling rocks were a serious problem back then. It's a wonder any species survived.

** I think she said "fins". If it was something else, I apologize to The Man for my poor memory but assure him that in all other things, my memory is always entirely accurate and I remain She Who Is Right.

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Give me two relaxing days and then throw me back into the fray and it is really hard to be anything but resentful.

So I am in a foul mood today. This almost snapped me out of it:

Yet another thing making the rounds (I will spare you posting the whole thing here) is one where you add to the list the name of the last song you listened to and then add the words “during sex” at the end. Kind of like the fortune cookie thing, only different.

I am cracking up because the last song I heard before I read that was “Using Our Feet”.


Reading:
Zorro - Isabel Allende

Hearing:
Somewhere Only We Know - Keane

Needing:
Cookies.
Or less to do at work.
Maybe both.

In My Car CD Player:
Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire.
I've read them all the usual way already, but I really like the way Jim Dale reads them. Besides, someone with my commute can't say no to a book that takes up 17 CDs.