Socially Induced Catatonia

Friday: Diana summoned me. I warned Seymour. He assured me that the great god Apollo will protect him as he does every month. Everyone else should probably just stay out of my way.

Later: LH and co. threw ice cream social. So, sent social parts of family (Iz and Seymour) while Leelo and I stayed home and Leelo got to knaw on DAN-sanctioned dried corn husks instead of howling for ice cream that he can't have. We played Teletubbies a LOT. He never did pretend play of this sort before, so I am yawning in fascination rather than boredom.

Saturday we celebrated Seymour's birthday. Threw party/BBQ for him and his bike riding/chess playing/bird watching buddies. No cake so as to avoid torturing Leelo. Sang Happy Birthday To You at least three times due to Leelo's requests. Fun, but it all happened in my house so I am even more exhausted and scowly by the time it's over. Attending friend KV needs emotional support--her partner is deep into a medical fellowship that has him out the door by 6 A.M. and rarely back before 9 P.M. They have two kids, younger than ours. He says to her "KV, what would I do without you?" She says "See your kids a lot more often since you'd have 50% custody." I don't think he realized how tightly clenched her teeth were. I will lure her down here more frequently. I fall asleep on couch. Hagiography candidate Seymour cleans up after his own party.

Sunday morning (Seymour's real birthday): Iz's Godfather M coaxes ambrosia and nectar down from the clouds for Seymour's birthday bruch. Unfortunately (from my, silent-for-the-day, perspective) we have to go to The City to be served said delicacies. Godfather M's pad should be on the top-10 list of least child-friendly places in The City for its rickety hanging-in-the-air-three-stories-above-concrete back porch alone (also: we are suburban poofs). We bring high chair for sequestering Leelo, which makes this the most pleasant trip to Godfather M's place yet.

Sunday afternoon: We get home. Seymour goes on bike ride. I call Ep's house to find out when Jo's birthday party starts, and am told that it started 20 minutes ago. Yup. Madly slap homemade CD package together and rush over. Ability to fake non-grouchiness has completely eroded by this point. I wander around after Leelo and glower at everyone, even at poor birthday girl Jo when she opens up my present in front of everyone. There is a surfeit of damn good Indian food (at the restaurant, Jo's partner SS was handed another group's order in addition to his own). Leelo howls for naan bread. Well, we weren't going to really go gluten-free until this week. Delighted boy gets to snarf three pieces of his very favorite food. Then he goes back to playing, and makes poor naked Madeline ride a giraffe bareback. She didn't act that way in the orphanage...

Today: I am incapable of normal functioning. Haven't had a good chunk to myself for far, far too long and it shows. Example: went to store to get desperately needed menstrual gear. Bought everything but. Am reduced to scavenging backpacks and suitcases for emergency supplies. Worse example: cannot work up the energy to play properly with Leelo, or Iz for that matter. Video-rama. Worst example: Seymour's cousin F, who we visit several times a year, had his throat slashed last night during an attempted robbery (nice safe small town they live in). The thugs missed both his carotid and windpipe, but he lost close to too much blood. Did I remember to call today for an update? Did I even remember that the event had happened? No. I did not. I remembered that that poor guy got his head cut off by the elevator, though, the story of which got lots of excellent gasps and squirms at the park. This is the brain that is managing Leelo's return from autism land. This is why I've enlisted so much professional help for him.