a lazy Saturday

Yesterday was Saturday, also known as the Sabbath around here. Typically, my partner takes our older child to the shul, while the baby and I commune at home. After shul (if we're lucky with the scheduling), a home care nurse comes to help with our older child's infusion of clotting factor. This week, however, we threw caution to the winds, stayed in our pjs until about 11am, and engaged in our favorite Sabbath practices: building railroad tracks, gurgling at the baby and reading.

Here's what we read:

The mama read Fitcher's Brides, by Gregory Frost. It's a retelling of the Bluebeard tale, with Bluebeard as a charismatic preacher, predicting the end of the world. Snatches of the story keep replaying in my head, as I try to figure out exactly what made it so compelling. I am beginning to feel as if the author cheated somehow, but I invite you all to read it for yourselves and tell me what you think. I am now trying to banish it with 1491, by Charles Mann. This may not work - despite Mann's endearing style (rather Bryson-esque), his narrative requires one to be fully awake, rather than being intriguing enough to wake you up. Hmm. Maybe I should commit a maternal felony and read with a cup of coffee next to me. (What would the lactivists say?)

The papa feebly tried to read something about torts, then gave up and joined...

El nino numero uno read The Wizard of Oz, courtesy of his grandparents. He is simultaneously entranced by the lovely pictures and the story itself, and this morning chose Oz over Clifford. Wahoo!

And the baby continued perusing the pages of The Body: An Owner's Manual. Having read and enacted the sections on Rolling: There and Back Again, he now decided to simulatneously explore the sections on The Tongue: Not Just for Curling and Feet: How to Inhale Them. I'm proud to say that he is making progress in his studies, but has not progressed past grabbing his toes, though he is looking at them thoughtfully as he does. I predict insertion into mouth within the week.

And now, off to the shul we go, baby and I, for an event apparently more compelling than sabbath services: the young families' group. Topic for this meeting: sleep. As an experienced mama, I'm asked to offer my wisdom on this subject, but I will probably just sit and snigger. Because, in short, my opinion on sleep is: good luck to ya. If the kid came with a manual, then read it. Otherwise train them if you must, let them be if you can, compromise as you most likely will.


Glossary:

shul: synagogue, place where Sabbath and weekday services are held.