Five on a mattress

We spent an extended Memorial Day weekend at the home of my in-laws. It was a very hectic, but fun time: Birthday parties, barbecues, visits with old friends. Chris and I had a great time, Liam, not so much. Liam is our son who turns one year old tomorrow. It was too many new faces and places for his taste.

Which is why, I believe, he woke up crying Monday morning at about 1 a.m. He had had enough. Although he did have his Jilly blanket and Bandit, the stuffed horse, it wasn't good enough. Strange bed, strange house. After a nappy change and a snuggle, he still wasn't happy, so we put him in bed with us.

Naturally, Liam slept, Mufasa (the dog) slept, Bandit did what Bandit does, and Chris and I were awake the rest of the night. Now I am well aware that as parents of a small child, we are not expected to get much in the way of sleep, but Liam has been sleeping the night through since he was about 3 months old. We are kinda used to that.

Monday went by in a blurr. After another not so sleep-filled night, Tuesday wasn't much better. And I can tell you, we were all extremely happy to be sleeping in our own beds by Tuesday night.

The party nobody came to . . .

Thankfully, this was not it.

We had friends for dinner last night. Well, not literally. I mean, we didn't eat them. We actually ate barbecued ribs, potato salad, fresh bread and plenty of beer. Regardless, the food was good, but not the highlight of the evening.

The highlight was the company. This is a rather interesting mix of people. Three couples: One in their 60s, one in their 50s and one in their 40s. Four to six times each year we get together to argue. Ok, maybe it's not the healthiest relationship in the world, but it is interesting. Actually, we don't seriously argue, we have lively, animated discussions about a myriad of topics: Politics, ethics, golf, work, life.

The 60 somethings have never had children. The female half is a retired elementary teacher, the male half works in city administration. The 50 somethings are grandparents. The female half works in management, the male half at a high paying blue collar job. My husband and I are the 40 somethings of the group, my husband is a high school teacher, I have a home-based bookkeeping business. We are an eclectic group.

Then, very unexpectedly, nearly a year ago, my husband and I had our first child. I wondered at the time how this would change the dynamic of all of our friendships, this group in particular. So far, the song remains the same, but I continue to worry/wonder.

How will our son affect our friendships? How will our friendships affect our son?

Wow! Did I get off topic? I really did throw a party some years ago that no one came to. It was my intent to say that it has made me a somewhat reluctant and rather spontaneous hostess. (If I don't plan too much, it doesn't become a big deal, and then if no one shows it doesn't matter?) It always takes me by surprise when I host a get-together and we actually do get together!

On the list of things I could do without . . .

I discovered a spider living in my powder room this morning.

When I went in there to pee in the half-light before dawn, I became aware of a very large spider lurking just above floor level near my feet.

As I could reach the switch, the light came on.

To my dismay, she is a Black Widow. Now I knew these were living in the garage, but I was unaware that any had moved into the house. Needless to say I am less than pleased. Something will obviously have to be done.

I'm not much of a spider killer myself, but I will if I have to. I have no desire to share my powder room with her. She is going to get more than a powder, she will get dusted, even if I have to do it myself.

Welcome

I've never had a nickname. I always wanted one. My mother took pains when naming each of us to ensure that our names were too short to be shortened, and I guess I never had an outstanding characteristic that encouraged anyone to call me as they saw me.

For a brief moment in college I was known as Ogg, the Dinosaur Tamer. Very brief. No one ever actually called me that, I was just printed on the back of a T-shirt as such. I was typesetter for my college newspaper. The room I did my work in was a closet ( about 4x6, no windows, one door). How it became the dinosaur closet I have no recollection, but as it was, I became Ogg, the Dinosaur Tamer.

A friend of mine started her blog about a year ago, I just recently found out she had one and have been reading catch-up. She is a fantastic writer and I know I can't compete, but it looks like fun, so here I am . . .

. . . welcome to my blog.