Friday night, Calfgrit13 went to an overnight “lock in” at Adventure Landing with a friend’s church group. His friend’s family picked him up from here at home after 8pm, and he spent the entire night playing laser tag, video games, driving go-carts, and generally doing anything to keep from falling asleep. Although CG13 says he did sleep for about an hour, in a chair, laying his head on a pillow on a table.

Saturday, Wifegrit had to work, so she got out of bed at 5:30, ate breakfast in the kitchen, took a shower, got dressed, and headed out to the hospital for her 12 hour shift in the mother/baby unit.

Calfgrit9 woke up before 7:00, came into our bedroom to let me know he was up, and then went down the kitchen to eat breakfast. I just continued to lay in bed for a while, until CG13 got home at about 7:30.

CG13 was tired, but happy from a night of fun. That was his first all-nighter. He has been to, and had, sleep-overs with friends before, but usually they do end up sleeping at least some of the night. As soon as he got upstairs, I put him right to bed. And he fell right to sleep.

This Saturday was a make-up school day for one of the snow days they had off earlier in the year. But we were letting CG13 skip this so he could participate in the lock-in Friday night, and sleep in Saturday. CG9, though, was going to school. So we got his stuff together in his backpack.

To kill some time until time to go, we shot some basketballs in our driveway. We have the basket up at the official 10′ height, so CG9 has to really get his whole body into every shot, and he does a pretty good job. He misses as much as he makes, but that’s pretty good for someone only 4′ tall and about 60 pounds.

At 8:45, I walked the little guy to school and wished him a fun time. It’d be only a half day, so I’d pick up at 12:35.

After that, I thought I’d get out and run an errand while CG13 continued to sleep. I went to Target and picked up a couple of items, and went to IHOP for a waffle breakfast. Then I went back to a quiet house. Perfect opportunity for a little personal quiet time. A mid-morning nap is a wonderful thing.

My phone alarm woke me up at noon. I got up, stretched, checked on CG13, (still sleeping), straightened up the kitchen, then headed out to walk to the school.

At the school, I stood out in the grassy “walkers’ point” with many other parents and waited for the bell to ring and the kids to be let out. I chatted with the dad of CG9’s friend for a bit, and then the kids came out. CG9 had a good day, and we talked about it on the walk back home.

CG13 had a trumpet practice at 1:30, so I had to wake him up before 1:00. We picked up lunch at a drive through on the way to the music school and ate it in my truck. CG9 and I sat through CG13’s practice, and then we all headed back home.

CG9 was anxious to get out and play with his neighborhood friends, and CG13 was wanting to just hang out alone in the house. He was still tired from the long night awake. And I was thinking about going for an afternoon run around the park lake behind our house.

At home, CG13 went up to his room. CG9 took their cell phone and went across the street to play with friends. And I changed into my running clothes. I stuck my head in CG13’s door to tell him I was going out running. I called CG9 on his phone to let him know, too. Then I took off.

The sun was warm, the air was fresh, and I ran and ran and ran, (with a couple of walk breaks, too). I ended up going for over an hour, [brag]burning 983 calories[/brag], according to my heart rate monitor. I wanted to keep going, to break through 1,000 calories, but CG9 wanted to bring his friends inside our house for a board game. (They can’t have friends inside the house unless there is a parent inside, also.) So I ended my run and let the boys inside.

While I had been out running, Wifegrit called to say she was getting off work early. Yay! She ran an errand right after and then came home. When she got here, we hung out a bit, sitting on the front porch, talking. Then we went inside and I made chicken and stuffing for dinner. We had a nice meal at the kitchen table. Afterward, the boys and I played an hour of Minecraft — I created a new survival server, and we had a big ball together.

Then we herded the boys into their showers. When they were finished, Wifegrit took over getting them into bed while I took my own shower. Yes, I had been a bit post-run stinky for a couple hours by this point. Such happens sometimes when one thing happens right after another during a family day. But I was all clean and fresh for bedtime.

Although it had been a very unusual Saturday, what with one boy sleeping in half the day, the other going to school, the wife working part of the day, and me getting over an hour of free running time, but it was a pretty good day. A pretty good day.

Bullgrit

My last post declared that I’m not a divorced dad. But this weekend I almost became one. Wifegrit and I worked together to straighten up and clean out the garage. That’s the real test of how strong a marriage is.

We’ve agreed to divide our home into “His Area” and “Her Area.” The His Area is the office — the one room where I have complete say over how it’s arranged and decorated. This place, where I’m sitting right now to write this post, (and where I play my games and generally just screw around and waste time), is my domain. Maybe you’ve seen it.

Although Wifegrit has a desk and computer in this room, it’s still my domain. She may shake her head at the decor, or may close the door when she has guests over, but she allows me this one area as my uncontested geek cave. Because the Her Area of our home is every other room in the house.

She may ask my opinion on some curtain or chair or shelf or knickknack, (and I share the cleaning duties throughout), but the layout, the decor, the choices are all up to her last word on the subject. And I’m completely fine with that. Her taste is much better than mine — I mean, just look at my office. As a stay at home mom, the whole house is essentially her office. I don’t mess with her arrangements, (unless she asks my help), and I don’t complain about how she organizes. (Not that there’s really anything to complain about, anyway.)

But something we never decided on a master for, and something we both use about an equal amount, is the garage. Unlike some folks, we actually use our garage for parking our cars, (her minivan, my SUV). So it needs to be somewhat clear, with tools and toys and storage stuff organized smartly. This weekend we both got out there for our annual spring cleaning. Now that the weather is warm and comfortable, we can put away the winter tools and decorations that have been crammed to the sides waiting for this day.

So we spent a few hours moving this and that, clearing out that and this, and just getting the room neat and tidy and useful. But since we both use the room, we sometimes have different ideas or preferences on where things should go. One of us will spend ten minutes organizing an area only to have the other one come over right after and move the stuff either to a place that they like better or to make room for something else in that spot. One of us will move containers or shelving to a spot and then the other will ask, “Did you sweep the floor over there?” Frustrations rise. Arguments get fought out. Because neither of us is the sole master of that area.

But, fortunately, we’re best friends. So like any best friends, we can have a blow out argument over some ridiculously minor thing, and then turn around and laugh and hug. In the end, after about three hours of work and argument and laughter, we had a nice, neat, and useful garage again. All ready for the summer.

We’ve proven our home and marriage can survive with dual masters for one room, once a year.

Bullgrit

As you may know, my wife works, (as a maternity nurse), every other weekend. When she does, it’s just me and my boys all day, from wake up to bed time, Saturday and Sunday. Many times when I take them out somewhere, like to a restaurant or something, I feel that people look at us like I’m a divorced dad with custody of his kids for the weekend.

That’s actually a depressing feeling. But I know exactly why I feel that. I remember being with my dad on the weekends, when I and my brother were the ages my boys are now. Our dad was divorced, and had custody of us only on the weekends, and we’d go out to a restaurant for lunch and/or dinner Saturday and/or Sunday. In those days, (70s-80s), that was the only reason you’d see a family without the mom on a weekend. (At least that’s what I thought, at the time.) That experience apparently permanently set my thoughts on seeing a dad alone, out with his children. So when I see a dad taking his kids out to a restaurant, that’s the first thought I have of the situation — I assume he’s divorced, and just with them for the meal together. So, since I have that thought when I see that scene, that’s what I assume others see of me when they see me out with my boys.

And that’s crap. I don’t think the same when I see a mom out with her kids. I don’t assume she’s a single mom. And I don’t add the pathetic idea that she has limited custody, just for the day or weekend.

I hate that. Both the default thoughts I have, and the feelings I feel because I assume everyone else thinks the same as I do. It’s just stupid. I feel guilty for my thoughts, and I feel guilty for what I assume others think, (even though they probably don’t assume what I think).

I’ve found myself explaining to total strangers that I’m not a divorced dad. I find myself mentioning to the waiter that, “Mom is working today.” or “We’re giving Mom a little break tonight.” It’s an instinctual utterance, most likely completely unnecessary. The person probably didn’t think what I assume they thought, and even if they did they don’t care.

It’s strange how something so stupid can bother me to such a core level.

Bullgrit

Last night, while lying in bed, suddenly everything seemed weird. Something was . . . wrong. It took me a few moments to realize what it was. The room was completely dark — pitch black —  and very quiet — eerily still. Our bedside digital clocks were dark, and the white noise machine was silent. The power was out.

It’s amazing how dark the house can get with no electricity powering the little electronic devices we take for granted. Normally it’s pretty easy to get up and walk to and from the bathroom in the night because the clocks or some little red dot on some device serves as markers for where things are. But when everything if off, the dark is complete blackness. Literally can’t see your hand in front of your face.

I got out of bed, and carefully and slowly felt my way to the window to look outside. I parted the curtains and blinds, and saw the glowing streetlight beside the road that runs past our neighborhood. On the other side of that road, I could see lights on in houses in the other neighborhood. Hmm. Is it just our house that’s without power? I slowly and carefully made my way across the bedroom and out to the hall to look out a front window. The streetlight in front of our house was dark, and all the houses down our street were dark. So, it wasn’t just our house. Wonder what caused this? No storm, nothing going on that I could see or hear. Just a random power outage.

When I walked back into the bedroom, Wifegrit was awake. I told her the power was out. She had to get up for work Saturday morning, so she needed an alarm. She opened her iPad. It was 11:35. While she set the iPad’s alarm, I made my way to my office to get my phone. I used it as a flashlight to get back to bed. I forgot that I keep a big Maglite in my nightstand.

While she had her iPad open, she checked Facebook. One of our neighbors had posted about the power outage. Wifegrit confirmed in a comment to that post that it did seem that the whole neighborhood was out. Then she closed the pad,  and we both went back to sleep.

A while later, though, I heard a strange moaning sound. My first thought was that the dog was snoring. So I listened to his breathing — easy to do when the house is otherwise completely silent. The moaning didn’t seem to match the dog’s breathing pattern. Then I realized it was one of our boys making the sound down the hall. I hopped out of bed and went through the blackness, (I forgot the flashlight again), to find that Calfgrit9 was trying to call for attention.

CG9 was spooked by the darkness and silence. His room has a nightlight and a fan, and both were off. I talked to him a minute, to explain that the electricity was out. He was trembling and his voice was cracking. So I got in bed with him and snuggled up with my arm over him. He calmed down after a minute, and we whispered a conversation for another minute or two. He asked what time it was, and I said I didn’t know.

He really wanted to know what time it was, so I left to go get my phone from my bedroom. On my way back to him, the power came back on. In his room again, I showed him the time on my phone, (1:10), and we talked another minute. He said he would be alright now that it wasn’t completely dark and quiet.

Soon I was in my bed asleep again. I dreamed of fighting zombies. Not a scary dream, but actually a fun and exciting adventure. I wonder if the power outage prompted that?

Bullgrit