eeyore and shleprock are my patron saints of blogging

This is what I have decided. And I have decided to embrace it.

Eeyore and Shleprock are my patron saints of blogging. Which isn’t to say that I don’t have good days. (Too many double negatives in there, head hurts. Nevermind.)

Today my mantra was “Only do things that don’t make me miserable.”

And for the most part I succeeded.

I didn’t get two hours in bed with the heating pad and a book again. That would not have sucked.

I did get to work with a friend I really like and admire, on her website, which is a long process involving learning curves more (her) and less (me) steep for both of us. But she brought veggie-egg-and-cheese wraps from Noah’s and Scott made coffee so all in all, the people were fed and caffeinated and made some progress and it was good.

Later in the day, I met with a new client who has hired me to do presentation coaching with her. It’s an idea I’ve been percolating on for a while now, and I’m not even sure that I have the terminology right since when I Google “presentation coaching,” a lot of what is out there does not sound like me.

However, what I did do today with my new client, part interviews to develop the content of the presentation she is going to give, part one-on-one improvisation workshop to help her embody it, was AWESOME and a lot of fun.

After that, I came home and cooked dinner and did laundry and let the chickens out and put them away, all in anticipation of (advance penance for) leaving Scott to do bedtime solo while I went out with a girlfriend to see My Fair Lady at the El Cerrito theater — where you can order sandwiches, salads, pizza, et. al. and they serve your food at your seats. I’d seen MFL dozens of times at least as a kid and memorized the songs. I even saw a live production with a very old but still serviceable Rex Harrison, But I’d actually never seen it on the big screen.

The amazing thing about the movie was that first, in a busy metropolitan area where parking seemed like a total impossibility, we found a space right in front of the theater. When we got to the box office, we learned that the showing was sold out. As my friend was in the process of melting down on the sidewalk (as a mom, you plan these things, you work hard to get this window of time, and in this case, it was a one-time only showing, so you don’t take it well when your dream evening is dashed) and I was desperately trying to figure out how to search movie listings on my fancy new phone, a woman poked her head out the door and asked, “Does anyone out here need a ticket?”

“Do you have two?” we asked.

“Hold on!” she said, ducking back inside.

And lo and behold, it was so.

Miraculous.

I felt a little sad and guilty when I was leaving for my night out. Jonah set a place for me at the table, next to him, for dinner, which I was skipping. I sat with him for a few minutes. He wasn’t happy that I was leaving. But he accepted it.

He gave me kisses, on my cheek. He asked for one back. “But not a wet kiss,” he said, offering the tip of his nose.

“Will you be here when I wake up?” he asked.

“I’ll be home right after you go to sleep.”

He stood at the “waving window” and waved and blew kisses. I waved and blew kisses back. Five fingers, one finger, no fingers.

I’ve been thinking about this a lot: that I don’t recall my mom ever going out before my bedtime on a weeknight. I do so at least once a week, sometimes twice. I worry that it harms Jonah when I do this. I guess my dad worked late sometimes. It’s a different world? My friend laughed at me in the way a good friend does. “Oh My Gawd. He’s fine. We cannot be all things to our children. What they need is for us to be happy.”

I’m working on it.