Jacob arrived at 5, after having fallen asleep in the car between pre-school and my house. He was, to put it bluntly, crabby, curled up into himself on the daybed, watching TV. When he talked it was a low, muttered, whiny tone that I could barely hear let alone understand. I ignored him except to say I'd be in my office if he needed me. After six, I fixed supper, put lots of ketchup on his meatloaf and called him. He wasn't hungry, didn't want to come to the table, finally came reluctantly when I said no dinner, no ice cream. He began to pick at he ketchup, but I explained ketchup alone didn't count--he'd have to eat some meat. One bite and he spit it out, retreated to his couch. I threw out the dinner and busied myself with various things around the house. About 7:30 I went to check and he was playing with his action figures--one look at me and he sank back down on the bed. I laughed at him, asked if he were going to be glum again just because I'd come into the room. Within a minute, we were laughing and teasing--I had my Jacob back.
I'd thrown his dinner away so I asked if he wanted pbj and he did--although it turns out I wasn't supposed to cut it in half.. Who knew? I explained cutting a sandwich in half was routine good manners. We chatted while he ate about the little boy who had been here in his place earlier. He didn't know that boy. I asked if he liked meatloaf and he said he did but that other little boy didn't. The sparkle in his eyes was back, and we had a pleasant evening with a few lapses.
Christian said tonight--and I agree--we all have some tough nights coming, because none of us run an "eat when you please" household and he's going to have to get over that. He's also bad about demanding rather than asking politely, and we're working on that. I don't do anything without a please and a thank you, and if I think it's appropriate I tell him to do it himself. And when he cried and yelled about the cut sandwich, I was quite firm about not tolerating that kind of behavior--which is, I guess, why he ate it. When he left, he burrowed his face in my lap and then held it up for a kiss, so I guess discipline is forgiven. But I don't know what to do about that other boy--hmmm, is there a children's story there?
Technology did me in today. I was very carefully following directions to create a fan page on Facebook--this seems a bit futile because you had to list names, and I don't have fans as such. So I listed family. Turns out I created a personal page, for which I see no need since you have your profile page. And the section on MySpace in the book I was following is beyond me--the author says it's the single most important network for a writer, but I am more baffled than by Twitter at which I'm gradually making inroads. I've had enough of all that for the day and am reading a novel.
But then I used Evite to send invitations for a party in mid-December--without knowing I was doing that, I sent them today. Christian said, "Oh, well, it's good to get it on everybody's calendar." I think my friends will decide I've gone looney, inviting them slightly over a month before the event. But then I've already had three acceptances. Next time, though, I'll save it as a draft. Christian says I'll have to send out two reminders--something else to learn.
Jordan sent me an Evite to a Christmas cookie party on a Saturday afternoon in December--the co-hostesses are her friends and contemporaries, and I knew I'd rather have my Saturday nap, so I replied "Probabky not." She laughed tonight and said, "You're keeping Jacob that day." Hmmm--I'll have to see if it's on my calendar. If not, she gets the please and thank-you leassons.
Lots of things I left undone today but the nice thing about retirement is they can wait until tomorrow. One thing I noticed this morning about my new lazy way of life is that I have little time: by the time I got up, admittedly late, read e-mails, watched about Prince William's engagement on TV, rode my bike, and showered, it was time to run my one errand and meet old friends for lunch. In fact, I was a tad late for lunch. Where did the morning go?
Tomorrow is liable to be the same.