Designated Wet Blanket

I made a cake. It was a glazed lemon cake topped with fresh berries and whipped cream, and I think that proves that I am supportive of holidays and food. But I did not go to the beach and get sunburned along with everyone else on the 4th of July, and I did not go to the water park and get a neck injury like everyone else the following day. This is because we had a house guest and my introvert's power charge had been expended, and because I have been head-draggingly depressed for reasons related to an upcoming doctor's appointment, and chasing a seizure-prone toddler around slippery concrete was not an appealing holiday activity. REASONS, I told my mother. WET BLANKET, she replied.

So on Monday, I gathered the kids and took them to the Ice Palace for the borrowed child's last day of metropolitan adventure. And I was so determined not to be a wet blanket, and to not ruin my 2 year-old's childhood by Depriving Her of Life Experiences, that I folded under the gaze of the admissions lady and paid for a complete round of ice skates. This is ridiculous, I thought as I tugged tiny blades onto Zenny's feet. This is not a good idea, I thought as I secured her helmet and clomped to the ice rink. THIS IS THE WORST THING I HAVE EVER DONE, I thought as we clung to a walker and slid in a panicky circle around the kiddie area. Zenny tried to climb my legs, I tried to hold her up so we could exit faster, we struggled in place for a terrible half a minute, and then an alarmed ice-lifeguard grabbed us both and shoved us off the ice. I tossed the skates back onto the counter and bought some hot cocoa, instead. We watched the big kids skate, warmed our hands, and I mentally pared items off my shopping list to allow for the cost of my idiot toddler-on-ice endeavor. 

coffee filters; I can use paper towels 

sandwich things for work lunches; I can eat old cans of tuna with a fork

tea bags; old crystal light

pasta sauce; just dump cheese on it

It's all fine. The kids had a great weekend. Nobody got their fingers cut off on the ice rink. There is leftover cake. I am in some of the holiday pictures.

Here is photographic evidence of festivities and things being done.