(The war between getting a post done and waiting until I can make some sense and do a good job with it is over. The winner is ‘just start writing and hope something good comes out of it’. You’ve been warned.)

It’s been a hard week on the family front. Everyone within these walls is fine and dandy, but there’s a pretty messy situation going down back in the wife’s home town 1340 KM away. Her other sister (not the one mentioned last post) is very quickly alienating the family and forcing them to distance themselves from her and her self-destructive ways. It’s very likely that she’s suffering from mental illness, but she’s in full denial of any problem or wrongdoing on her part. The stress that the rest of the family  is dealing with up there is heartbreaking, and being so far away makes us feel very helpless. I can only provide so much comfort to my wife, and the distant situation has left a pall over our week. Tack on the smaller drama of the SIL and Max’s big bump (which is almost healed, thanks for asking). Mix in a hearty dose of money worries and feelings of fiscal inadequacy on my part, and you can see that the atmosphere has not been conducive to weekend fun. Oh, and I have a lingering and infuriating throat infection.

This morning I was at the bottom of this funk, and it threatened to take the rest of the day with it. By mid-afternoon, I realized that nothing good would come from the wife and I both broadcasting sadness and misery, so one of us had to start looking up. Since I have less emotionally invested in the family disaster, I took the role of the optimist, and I chose to have a better attitude. I didn’t start singing about rainbows and sunshine, or offering unrealistic predictions of everything working out. I just tried to be in a good mood. It’s not perfect, but it seems to be helping, and the alternative would be sulking. I won’t lie: the big bowl of Froot Loops helped. And that’s the human survival tactic kicking in again (the optimism, not the cereal). There’s a long lineup of people behind you, generations of ancestors who all experienced life kicking their teeth in at some point, and they all stood back up, brushed themselves off, and found a way to live through it. You can’t wait for optimal conditions to enjoy your life, because you’re just not going to get them.It makes me think of an episode of the Simpsons where Homer and Marge’s romantic life has lost the fiery passion it once held. This is Homer’s response to Marge when she brings the topic up:”Marge, there’s just too much pressure. What with my job, the kids, traffic snarls, political strife at home and abroad. But I promise you, the second all those things go away, we’ll have sex.”

And there were some bright spots in my gloomy rainy weekend. For example, my brother organized a birthday dinner celebration for our mother on Saturday, and it was a nice time with my side of the family. I got to see my wonderful niece and nephew who I adore, and at the end of the night, I had Max and his cousin Riley in my arms as they bombarded me with smootches, and that was pretty nice.

I did mean to blog Friday, really I did. But I did the 12 hour childminding marathon that included a birthday party and bedtime, so I was pretty drained by 8PM. For the record, the wife gave me an hour or so break during the afternoon, so it wasn’t an uninterrupted shift. Still, much love for the single parents out there. I am glad I don’t have to run the whole show all day, every day.

And then Saturday I helped the sister-in-law move, and that move went pretty well. I may not have many marketable skills, but I am a good mover. Saturday night was leisure night and I frittered that away with reckless abandon. Sunday I was the most tired man ever and the blogging opportunities just slipped by me without notice. So now we are here, and I am determined to write something before I fall asleep. Which, given the late night and restless night I had last night, could be at any moment, so off we go!

There’s a moving target that I try to keep in my sights. I try very hard to balance the challenge of anything the boy will encounter with his capability level. And of course he’s improving at everything all the time, with the occasional startling slip back, so it’s a tricky situation. Let’s get specific, shall we? When I’m preparing the little dude’s food, I used to leave the individual components in their un-combined state so that he can eat each one with ease. so, instead of a sandwich, he would get cheese sticks, ham rolls, toast, tomato and cucumber slices, and ketchup to dip. Then it occurred to me that I should start building up the complexity, so I would make the sandwich, but cut it into many small pieces to facilitate the picking up and eating. Now I’m trying out the real deal. Full sandwich, cut in half. This is pretty thrilling stuff, I know.

I can spend the time thinking about the difficulty rating of his upcoming meal because I have the luxury of time that being a parent of only one child affords. When there are other kids in the house, you’re a little too busy to over-analyze the sandwich compatibility matrix. The same progression in challenge still happens in busier households, but it’s a more organic process. When you’re trying to feed a wiggly baby, you have less time for cutting the older child’s food into pleasing geometric shapes, so when things are rushed, they get what they get and they like it.