Slipping Back to My Old Ways

Yep, posting sporadically again!

We went to a party Saturday (the same friends who had the Halloween party I posted about here) for St. Patrick's Day. I had contacted a potential babysitter who seemed great. She'd worked with special needs kids before, was nearby, and sounded excited to watch Hutton at the party, and to watch both kids in the future. Yay!

Except...she never showed up. I'd emailed her Friday night before the party to remind her, but since the weekend before she was still on board, I didn't think there'd be a problem.

She didn't call to tell me she couldn't make it. She didn't call to explain afterwards why she didn't show. She didn't even email an excuse or apology.

Sigh. I miss my Stacy! Stacy is our former babysitter, and still sits for the boys when she's home over the summer and winter breaks. Stacy is a junior in college in Connecticut. Her mother lives about a mile from us. She's wonderful with the boys, and does all kinds of chores as well. One summer she organized our garage for us. Yes, amazing.

Anyway, the party was fun. The boys both watched a movie with the other kids (Underdog) and stayed entertained until 10 o'clock! Their normal bedtime is 9, so I was very impressed Hutton didn't ask me, "When are we going home? When are we taking a bath? When are we going to bed?" a hundred times. I talked to a women for a long time and really liked her, though of course, don't remember her name! We were sitting at the injury table -- she had her foot in a walking boot and I didn't wear my aircast, and because of that was limping in regular shoes. (I am tired of wearing running shoes all the time, since they're the only shoes that fit over my big honking aircast!) I don't know what the party hosts thought of our lack of sitter, but I actually enjoyed myself and didn't care. They had hired two babysitters anyway, and as I said, Hutton was fine. Maybe next time they invite us to a party they won't ask Hubby if we can bring our own sitter with us? Who knows. Either way, I need to find a reliable babysitter!

That's Big Foot to You

That's right. I'm going to Sasquatch! Well...maybe.

I bought tickets this morning, for Hubby's birthday gift this year. Whether we actually go will depend on the willingness of grandmothers to babysit. Hubby's mom has been up to babysit her baby granddaugher several times this year, so I feel she really can't say no to us. I mean, she OWES us. Right? Then again, I don't know if I really want to subject either grandmother to babysitting grandparenting for three days.

My dad and stepmother came up for a weekend to take care of Hutton when he was a young toddler, while Hubby and I went to a wedding in Hawaii. My stepmother told me last year that it was one of my late dad's fondest memories, as he felt he never got to spend a lot of time with his grandchildren when he was alive, as most of them live in Tennessee, and we're up in Washington. So, thinking of that, it tells me that either my mom or Hubby's mom should cherish the chance to watch my beautiful boys. Whether they agree or not remains to be seen. I can always tell them the above story and see if that guilts them into it.

Anyway, back to the big furry creature. Sasquatch is a wondrous music festival held at the beautiful Gorge Amphitheatre on the Columbia river. Here's a picture. It's beautiful at sunset, and did I mention who is playing this show? See this link and scroll down to the line-up.

Yep, they had me at R.E.M. and Modest Mouse, but read on. That's right. THE CURE. Death Cab for Cutie. Flight of the Conchords! ( See here for blogging on them.) I won't pretend to even know who half of the rest of these people are. I don't exactly get out to clubs anymore. I don't even have a reliable babysitter.

My love of R.E.M. may override my concern for my mother and MIL. In high school, I told my best friend that I was searching for a boy who would represent to me the essence of R.E.M. She probably gave me a look that said, "What the fuck are you talking about?" She reminded me that I said this a few years ago, and I smiled fondly. I may not have the same passion for R.E.M. as I did in the late 80s, but I really do want to see them in concert.

And then...Modest Mouse, and The Cure. Man, when I get my time machine finished and tell my 16-year-old self about this concert (first explaining that The Smiths broke up, alas, but Modest Mouse has Johnny Marr playing guitar for them) she'll say, "Wicked Awesome!" OK, that's not really true, as I don't think I was saying that in the late 80s, except in the ironic sense. My 16-year-old self would probably say something to try to prove how cool and smart she is, but just come across as a pretentious little geek. Really, I've changed so much in 18 years.

My point...I do have one...is that when I heard about the lineup of Sasquatch I lost my shit. Thankfully, not literally. I really wanted to go, then the realist in my head popped up and said, "Hey lady! You have two little boys! You can't just drop everything and go to a three day outdoor concert anymore." Damn realist, shut up! She continued: "Tickets are pretty expensive, too. Plus, you'll be several hours from home, and will have to camp out at the Gorge or stay in a hotel." Undeterred, I excitedly told Hubby about it last night, and though he wasn't as excited as I, he did seem interested, and even mentioned renting a camper to take. Yes, getting Hubby in a camper is quite the coup. He's not the crunchy outdoorsy type, so a tent is out of the question. A camper is a nice meeting-me-halfway thing.

Oh, and we could always take the boys, as it's an all-ages concert but that really (REALLY) is our last choice for a Shiny Happy Weekend.

So, we shall see. Wish me luck. I can always sell the tickets if things don't work out. Sob. I don't want to, but I can. Did I mention I really like R.E.M.?

It's My Party and I'll Bitch if I Want To

Well, there's not a party. Not even a dinner. And I'm pissed. No, I don't need a birthday party. In fact, I don't really like birthday parties. They're OK every once in a long time, but really, after a certain age (post college for me) I think they're kinda silly, unless you're getting the whole family together to celebrate Uncle Hughey's 85th or something like that.

But, Hubby and I did make plans to go out tonight to celebrate my birthday. The night after the real day, but Hubby had to work late yesterday, so whatever. Friday night sounded great. A night out for the first time in months. We went out to dinner on our 10th anniversary in June, but other than that, haven't gone out together since December probably, when we visited family and left the kids with grandparents. So, I searched around and found a babysitter who seemed nice and professional, had good references, etc. I was so looking forward to dinner, and dare I dream, possibly a movie, with Hubby! Whoa. Craziness. I saw Ratatouille with the boys last week, and that was my big summer movie. Make that my first movie of 2007.

So, yesterday was nice. I met my friend and her kids at a farm that has kiddie rides, and the boys had a great time, as did I. I was tired when I got home, and didn't really want to deal with getting dinner ready by myself since Hubby was working late, but hey, I had Friday night to look forward to. I could do it!

I checked my email around 6, then went to make dinner, get the boys ready for bed, etc. I checked my email again before bed at 11:30 or so. And saw this:

Dear Laura,

Good evening. I feel awful about this but I am not going to be able to come over tomorrow evening. I know you will most likely not want to hire me in the future as this is very unprofessional. I have had something happen that I must attend to tomorrow evening and that is all I can say. I am so sorry for all of the inconvenience I am sure this will cause to your plans.

Regretfully yours,

Super Megabitch

Arggh! I told Hubby that I'd try to find another babysitter today, but so far no one has called me back. This just sooo pisses me off. I know it's just a stupid dinner and (possibly) movie, but when you don't get to go out with your husband more than a couple times a year, its something you really look forward to.

And, once I start wallowing in self-pity, I think that I have no idea if Hutton will be able to live on his own as an adult, let alone be left at home without a babysitter when he's a teenager, so I can't look forward to that: "Only seven more years and you can go out to dinner again!" Hmm. If I wait ten years maybe Harrison can be the babysitter for himself and his brother. Well, that will be a great 44th birthday, then! Can't wait!