My Toke

That's Rutledge's big line these days: "No, my Toke!" Yeah, he's Coke obsessed just like the others. His other major cutie is saying, in response to, "What's your name," something like "I'm me. I'm Rut!"

We spent too much time outside today, considering that it was 95 degrees and deathly humid. The bad thing about my "match of a lifetime" tennis games is that they go on forever, and this one today was a replay of last week, but with a different result. I lost the first set 6-1, which didn't reflect the level of play going on, just, apparently, my inability to wrap it up. The second set I won 1-6. And then I won in the tiebreaker 5-10. It was amazing and exhausting. I kept putting ice into my bra and into my hat, but in the final five minutes, absolutely nothing was helping.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, the sitter was locked out of the house in the heat with four kids she had taken to a tennis lesson, and they were all huddled in the garage next to the cat door, where it was cool because of the air conditioning. I felt horrible! Two neighbors have keys, but neither was home, although one arrived fairly soon after I heard the bad news, saving the melting folks at home. Poor, poor Heather, who will probably never set foot at our house again!

Wimbledon is on, Sharapova, my favorite Canon-snapping player, just won in a landslide. And I am remembering, as I always will, that this is the week that I spent in the hospital back when I was pregnant with the twins. I had a lot of time on my hands to watch a lot of tennis. A lot of everything, actually. A lot of crossword puzzles were done. Logic puzzles. All kinds of puzzles. Every day. All day.

Tomorrow is the first book group, and Ollie has a selection of books he might like to read, but Walter is stuck on My Father's Dragon, which is probably a little slower than the speed of this particular group. And a little too innocent. Ollie and I finished Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix tonight, and it was very, very intense for him. Although I've taken some grief that they haven't read the books before, I feel like it makes sense to wait, since the themes, many of them, are rather mature for them even still. It's a lot to take in and process. If we play our cards right and prioritize our reading the way we have been (read: no reading for me, no free time without a child right next to me), we'll be through the sixth book in about five days.

The topic of overprotective parents came up today at the park. I probably fall into the most permissive category. My kids go online and play games almost every day. They're pretty innocuous ones, IMO, things like Nickelodeon cartoon tie-ins, Webkinz, and Lego.com. And they play console video games, including my recent major step out in letting Ollie get Call of Duty 2. We haven't, however, succumbed to World of Warcraft or any other multi-player role-playing games (thank goodness! I know nothing about that subculture and am happy to remain in the dark!). I do let them go out in the cul de sac across the street without me to play with their friends, though this is a pretty recent development. Unfortunately, it has included letting Frances go. I just can't stay over and outside by myself with a pile of 4-8 year olds and not go crazy after an hour. More and more, though, I'm finding that the group ends up here playing, which is fine with me. I have thought a lot lately about letting Ollie go out on his own to take himself to tennis on the trails behind the school playing fields, but I think he's not quite ready yet to take that step, especially if we haven't all walked the path several times with him before. But I do look forward to the time when the boys will be able to be at the pool on their own while I do other things--while I am at the fitness center or playing tennis, especially. It will simplify things to a huge degree. Of course, having Rutledge be 4 will also simplify life in some ways.

I'm feeling like I'm not spending enough time with Franny lately. I'm in the house with her, but I'm so focused on reading to Ollie or keeping Rutledge from hitting us with a big stick or helping Walter with math that I'm not giving her a lot of undivided attention. We probably need a date together this weekend, though preferably one that doesn't include Build-A-Bear. I tend not to stick around during her activities because they are not Rutledge-friendly, and that means that I feel a bit more out of touch with her these days. She loves to be read to, but she isn't going to sit through a 900 page Harry Potter book. She loves to do her own math work, but it requires so much concentration and intervention from me that we don't do it as often as I'd like to be doing it.

I need to get to bed. My most memorable dream last night involved me sleeping in until 9:30 when I had to be at Fox Hall in the West End to play tennis at 9:00. I had missed the babysitter ringing the doorbell, and on top of this, I was wearing about 8 layers of too-tight clothes that I couldn't peel off so that I could get dressed. I knew that by the time I got myself together and drove where I needed to be that it would be 10:15, and it was too late. There was nothing I could do, and given my childcare gaffe week a copule of weeks ago, I knew this would be the end of my time on the USTA team. It was just so vivid!