Mayvember

That's what they call this godforsaken weather around here. It's been continuously around 52 Fahrenheit for the past days (weeks? months?) with grey skies and drizzle. So the whole town's kinda on edge. Cabin fever stopped being a colloquial and became a real pathology. The boys've been good so far. Well, Henri's actually glad not to have to digest too many new stimuli. Although he's in gym class now. At that age that means working on his lying down skills while mom does some major massaging. Karl used to love it and his class actually evolved into some lasting friendships. So this weekend Henri was treated to some private training sessions. And he did enjoy them very much. Of course that might have been due to the fact that Karl was simultaneously reading his heavy construction machinery catalogues to him.

After the pleasant Saturday, Sunday turned into one big snafu pile-up. First I took on an extra Sunday shift, because the plan was to take Karl out to grandpa Paul, so Henri and Fred can do some serious heavy lounging. Well first there was some Seeshaupt party plans that cut the Sunday option short, then Karl caught a nasty cold, so going out there was kinda out of the question, then he started the day with a short, but violent bout of stomach bug. So Fred ended up spending her day speed-commuting between the washer-dryer-section, the bassinet and the book-reading sofa while I had to go to work, where more snafus and unforeseen chores ate up all my attention. The over-all foulness of the mood was surprisingly low tonight though. Well, Karl got to take his new toys (arriving very timely in parcel from his Frankfurt posse yesterday) to the playground (his Northern Atlantic lobster trawler outfit kinda illustrates the local weather conditions), Fred and me caught the local Italian take-out in finest form and Henri, well, his happiness ante can sometimes be upped quite a bit with a few tickles and a good helping of milk. So now snafus turn into snoring. And if you ever fell asleep to the sound of two little boys snoring (even if you have to listen really closely), you know Mayvember can't have nothing on you.