Valentine’s Day

Babysat tonight. Seeing the little boys for the first time in almost two months was the best thing. Before I even got off the elevator, I could hear their voices and when the doors opened, they yelled my name and ran at me. Even the littlest one, who lingered a little behind their hugs, had the biggest smile on his face. I asked him for a hug and he wrapped his arms around me as I picked him up. It was the sweetest baby hug I’ve had in a long time.
He led me around their house, holding my hand, showing me all of his new toys. The other two had gone to DisneyWorld and were both talking about everything about it at the same time. We played Monorail tonight.
Of course, the night was not without its bumps. Thanks to us watching the Olympics (TV is usually a no-go in the house but they were curious about the Olympics and I was watching the mess around me grow so TV became a yes-go), we didn’t even start reading stories until after bedtime.
Ah, but I’m so happy to have seen them.

I was mildly ill today after spending last night out with Anna. We ended up going to Wrigleyville and going to a few bars there. We swear we saw one of the guys from the Sonic commercials at the bar that we most often go to, but weren’t in a particularly chasing mood. We went dancing, and ended up meeting some strange people. (Always, always have strange encounters). I wore these teal tights and my black and white Vans and a dress that I borrowed from Emily and I looked adorable. Relaxed. I danced, did some bar flirting (such a stress reliever, I think) with a cute guy who liked my shoes/tights combo but was wearing a really lame preppy scarf (I guess a conversation point, right?) and then ended up safely home. (I spent an extra ten bucks and took a cab from Anna’s house to my house, not wanting to walk home at 3am inebriated. Best decision ever, obviously.)

Cat and I curled up on the couch today and watched the Olympics. We both slept. I am anxiously awaiting a call from the vet. I got home from out first vet visit on Friday only to find a little hard lump about the size of a pea on one of his shoulder blades. So I hauled a very unhappy cat back to the vet on Saturday to see about. He didn’t want to go into his carrier at all Saturday morning. I think he still thinks I’m going to take him back. I finally smushed him in (smushed is the only accurate verb to use in this scenario) and carried him the five blocks.
They had to stab his little back a few times while I held him. It broke my heart. His little eyes looked up at me and I felt horrible, but glad that I was getting it checked out. They said that cysts in cats are odd and that they’ll call me if they could get a read off the cells they took. I put him back in his carrier and he didn’t fight; he just laid down and turned away.
The visit was free. Since it’s within 14 days of me getting him, I have $500 worth of free medical care (I’m sure that there are some things not covered, but $500 is still pretty lucky) and I’m hoping this whole cyst ordeal is over quickly and cheaply.
We got home and he ran and hid for a few hours. I know it’s good parenting, but I felt horrible.
I feel like we’ve bonded extremely well in the last few days.

Ugh. Valentine’s Day is lame. I’ll get to that later.
An exchange from this evening:
Boys: “We want to call Hunter!”
Me: “We can’t do that. I don’t talk to him very much anymore.”
Boys: “Why not?”
Me:  “We don’t go on dates anymore.”
Little Hunter: “I’ll go on dates with you.”

awww……

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