Saturday, Nothin' to do...

Since Aunt Natty was visiting and the sun was out, it seemed reasonable that we might do something productive. Except there wasn't really anything to do. So we decided to walk up to Coventry to visit the coffee shop and get Natty's hairs cut just to pass some time and work our legs.

The Daffodils have finally bloomed! Spring is coming! Maybe there won't be anymore snow after all! Ha! What a foolish thought!Natty pulled some bubblewrap out of someone's garden and gave it to Bastian to pop before we made it to a trashbin. She said "bin." I didn't say "bin." I don't pretend to be British. ... Much.
At the hair salon, I tried hard to entertain the kids while Natty was pruned. Bastian tried out several of the empty chairs.
Aleks came prepared with markers and paper. That kid's getting smarter and smarter all the time.
This particular salon just opened up and is owned by the same person who owns another shop but a few doors down and one story up. I was confused about that, but apparently, apart from the economy tanking at the moment, it's quite sane to have three hair salons in 1/8th of a mile.
After awhile, my distraction measures began to wear off. Even the loud colors did no good.
I offered the camera as a last resort, but Aleks just demanded to be in charge in order to photograph their alien and penguin from the growing eggs Piddy Peddy had bought them. They were much like the ones Kevin had bought them many moons ago, and like those, the creatures they released have become favorite pets for the carrying all about until their novelty wears off and I pretend to lose the hideous things with their pealing paint and odd lumps.
Then to the coffee shop, where Bastian got a tummy ache from drinking too much hot chocolate too quickly. He played with the penguin and alien and climbed on chairs and generally kept a lid on it for the sake of all those students studying hard.
Aleks drew many more pictures for the girls who work there and hung them up with all his others. In fact, we noticed that one of his pictures - of Darth Vader climbing a pyramid - had a note written on it which read, "Hi Aleks! From Casey!" Casey, if I am not mistaken, is Aleks' former speech therapist and our favorite to date. She went off to get her PhD, which makes us sad for us but happy for her.

Another of Aleks' drawings, which was of Darth Vader and a light saber, hangs on the baord which announces the coffees of the day and Marta, Marcy, Felicia, and Heather all informed us (several times) of how customers ask everyday what the drawing is and ooh and ahh over it. As well they should, as my child is an artistic genius. For now.

Sadly, the wonderful day did not last. Jon and I took the opportunity of having a free babysitter in town to go out with friends. First we went out for Ethiopian. I'd only had Ethiopian once before and found it to be like Indian, but not as good, and seeing as it took me years to be adventurous enough to love Indian, I wrote it off as a lackluster experience I wasn't anxious to repeat. Nonetheless, I found myself in an Ethiopian restaurant.

The dinner was quite good, as it turned out, but when we came out, our passenger window was smashed, our car stereo stolen, and the panel holding it was all jacked up. This happened to us once before with our previous car (before it was crushed by a semi), just after I'd found out I was pregnant with Aleks. This time, rather than feeling overwhelmed with the hormones of new pregnancy and thinking that my poverty and my pregnancy and this theft were all too much to deal with, we remained quite sensible and simply swept out the glass and drove home. I rode with our friends, Jay and Anna, to avoid having to sit on glass.

We parked the car in the garage to avoid prying eyes and walked up to La Cave du Vin for after-dinner drinks and to see practically all of our friends. After lamenting about our car for a bit (and the loss of one of my excellent mix CDs by Heather T. that was inside the stereo), we got into a groove and began to enjoy ourselves. Then the phone rang and Natty announced that Bastian was puking. Home again, home again...

At home, I got into jammies and laid beside Bastian on towels with a bucket. We both slept for a bit. After about an hour, I awoke with chills. We spent the entire night getting very little sleep. Bastian threw up about every hour or so and I tried to contain it all while suffering from aches, chills, nausea and dizziness myself. By ten a.m., he threw up for the last time and went off to play while I crashed and spent the whole day which was set aside for taxes sleeping and drinking tea.

These things come in threes, they say...