When: March (9 years ago), 2006
Where: Costa Rica
What: This is the Monday after the weekend when my husband (P)’s son (A) moves from Italy, with his dog, to live with us for a few years. (P)’s young daughter (K) spends the weekend with us. The kitchen is in the middle of a remodel.
A got here around 4:30 on Friday afternoon. The dog isn’t that big after all. I haven’t been still, or been alone, even to take a shower, since sometime on Friday morning–and it’s Sunday. A is a beautiful boy. When I was 19, boys didn’t look so much like puppies, but now they do.
Friday night we all went out for dinner. K has been acting out a lot. Of course dad and brother think it’s funny and cute. It is cute that she’s so happy, but she shows it by insisting on having all the attention all the time. And on this occasion, I can’t exactly tell her to settle down or calm down.
Yesterday, we went on this big fishing boat for some little kid’s birthday party. It was fun, but I have been eating entirely too much again. I feel heavy. Last night we made dinner at home, and went to bed. The kitchen is usable, but, with the new floor, the kitchen sink is just about the right height to pee in.
Friday night I slept ok with K in our bed, but last night I didn’t. That child is a nightmare to sleep beside, and I am sorry, but, it is NO LONGER NECESSARY that she sleep in our bed. She’s 7, not 3, and she is perfectly secure enough and capable of sleeping in a bed like a normal child. OF COURSE she’s going to throw a fit. But that’s no reason for even the adults to behave unreasonably. I am about ready to take this into my own hands. If I have to go sleep in her room to get any rest, she is going to sleep in there with me, and that’s the end of it. And P and I can have a fight about it if that’s what it takes, because I will win because I am right.