In an effort to be more open to change, I read Yes Man by Danny Wallace. My friend Peter the Reporter recommended it, and I really got into it. Wallace spends nearly a year saying yes to everything that comes his way, including advertisements and canvassers. There were some sections that were mildly annoying, like when he endeavors to discover who's behind the "Dear Sir: I am the son of a dead sultan" e-mail scam, but there were other bits that made me snort out loud.
Saying yes brings Wallace all kinds of fabulous opportunities, and as I was reading it, I was thinking: This is what I need to do. I should just say Yes to Massachusetts, Yes to the rain, Yes to the mosquitoes, Yes to the naughty pine!
Then again, saying yes to everything seems frightfully expensive and time-consuming, and though I'd love to try it, I'm not sure I could afford it.
I've joined three online moms' groups, so every morning I have about a dozen emails inviting me all over Massachusetts for various child-friendly activities. I realized this morning that if I said yes to all of my emails, I would have had to haul Buckaroo to at least five different towns, farms and parks a day. Poor guy would be tuckered out. Hey, but then maybe I'd get some more sleep! I'd probably really need it, too.
So, I've decided to say Maybe more. Beginning Wednesday I have three vast, nearly empty, weeks ahead of me, and I could fit in a lot of yeses in that time with two children and one husband away. I can't just jump on that yes boat though, so I'll start with the maybe dinghy and see how I float.
Other yeses: Obo has made fast friends with Band Girl and her fellow marchers. Today he went off with them, swam, had ice cream, and watched Legally Blond. An ideal day for Obo (except that he was too embarrassed to pee at Band Girl's house and ended up in an exceptional amount of pain). I hope he learned a lesson, but I doubt it. But get this: He learned that he likes mushrooms. It's nothing less than a miracle.
No Girl: R and I spent a good portion of our day trying to convince Sweet Potato to get off her NO. She says making friends is too hard, and she'd rather just read the seventh Harry Potter for the tenth time. She has agreed to invite our neighbor girl over tomorrow (she reads for crying out loud!) but there were many tears shed in the process.
Yes to technology: Today Buckaroo had a webcam playdate with his old buddy, Monkey Girl. There was lots of waving and blowing of kisses. At one point I think he was really distraught that he couldn't squeeze her. It was very sweet, and then he fell apart and had to go for a walk in the jogging stroller. We all miss Monkey Girl, and her parents too.
R and I had a day of No. It was just one of those days where we didn't click. We weren't on the same page, or even in the same book. I realized that it's hard any time to be out of sync with one's love, but it's especially hard when one's love has dragged her 3,000 miles away from her comfort zone. I'm making dinner, thinking: This isn't my house, this isn't my life, this isn't even my frying pan, and now I'm really peeved with the person who brought me here. Thinking thoughts like that could make a person ugly.
Luckily, I didn't turn into a hell monster. I just unpacked some boxes and found some goodies I'd been missing (poetry books and a journal/scrapbooky thing my friend Katherine made for me) and then I felt better. R went for a swim in the dark, and he felt better, too. At least I think he did.