It's my birthday. I have four hours of childcare today. Here's how I've spent it:
Hour 1: Housework. I cleaned the kitchen, sorted through weeks of stacked periodicals, put toys away, did laundry. It is satisfying to do this uninterrupted.
Hour 2: Showered and read periodicals that I'd been saving for weeks. This includes a silly article about birth order written by Elizabeth Gilbert and her sister, an article about whether using income rather than race as a tie-breaker for public school selection really works to diversify schools in a way that makes a difference, and an article about unlicensed backyard trattorias in Sicily.
Hour 3: Watched two episodes of "Weeds: Season 2," while eating mashed potatoes and red velvet birthday cake.
Hour 4: Watched one more episode of "Weeds" and am writing this. I think I can still taste the red dye from the cake. It leaves a certain aftertaste.
I ditched yoga class to do all of this. Instead of being pleasantly sore with a calm mind, I'm hopped up on sugar and carbs with a high glycemic index. My mind is swimming with lustful images of marijuana plants, Martin Donovan, and Mary Louise Parker's wardrobe. Now I must ferry my son to The Little Gym.