Kidopolis, Physical Therapy Day 3
Sep. 19th, 2003 12:24 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
elfsLast night, Omaha was feeling a bit pressured and out of sorts, so I agreed to take both of the kids to Kidopolis, a local indoor playground that they both love. After dinner, I let them loose and went to sit down and watch. With my wrist brace on, I was reluctant to try and chase them down inside the twisty, turny, not-sized-for-an-adult facilities.
There was a quite lovely redheaded woman talking to Yamaarashi-chan and watching the girls run about, and after a while she came and sat next to me, and we chatted. She wondered how I managed to get the girls to get along so well when most sisters fought; I thought that they were just too young to be rivalrous, and too different, too much into their own worlds, to fight over little things.
She really seemed to want to have someone to talk to. Her husband was aloof, standing off on the side with a book, looking vaguely resentful. She said that she spent most of her day at home, alone, with her three-year-old son, who looked like he was having as much fun as the girls were. When she asked where my wife was, I mentioned that I'd taken the kids out to let her have a quiet evening at home. "Aren't you the super dad. That's so nice of you." I got this strange feeling that her husband over there was a bit clueless about what to do with a kid all by himself.
After dropping Kouryou-chan off at home, I took Yamaarashi-chan back to her mother's house, then finally got to home and bed myself. Kouryou-chan awoke in the middle of the night, very upset, and nobody got much sleep.
I went to the pool at 5:30 am again. Didn't do as well as Wednesday. Managed 750 meters and towards the end it wasn't the exhaustion that drove me out of the pool, it was a vague but persistent sense of nausea. The lifeguard asked me if I was an ex-team swimmer and I allowed that I was. She nodded and said, "You look like it. Good luck." I wasn't quite sure what that meant.
Omaha expressed worry that three times a week is "too much"; I objected that 90 minutes a week of workout is probably not enough to undo fifteen years of neglect. The nausea accompanied me all the way up on the ride into work, but by the time I sat down at my desk I was okay. Still feel tired, though. Tonight's the first night of Foolscap. I hope I'm not too spacey.
There was a quite lovely redheaded woman talking to Yamaarashi-chan and watching the girls run about, and after a while she came and sat next to me, and we chatted. She wondered how I managed to get the girls to get along so well when most sisters fought; I thought that they were just too young to be rivalrous, and too different, too much into their own worlds, to fight over little things.
She really seemed to want to have someone to talk to. Her husband was aloof, standing off on the side with a book, looking vaguely resentful. She said that she spent most of her day at home, alone, with her three-year-old son, who looked like he was having as much fun as the girls were. When she asked where my wife was, I mentioned that I'd taken the kids out to let her have a quiet evening at home. "Aren't you the super dad. That's so nice of you." I got this strange feeling that her husband over there was a bit clueless about what to do with a kid all by himself.
After dropping Kouryou-chan off at home, I took Yamaarashi-chan back to her mother's house, then finally got to home and bed myself. Kouryou-chan awoke in the middle of the night, very upset, and nobody got much sleep.
I went to the pool at 5:30 am again. Didn't do as well as Wednesday. Managed 750 meters and towards the end it wasn't the exhaustion that drove me out of the pool, it was a vague but persistent sense of nausea. The lifeguard asked me if I was an ex-team swimmer and I allowed that I was. She nodded and said, "You look like it. Good luck." I wasn't quite sure what that meant.
Omaha expressed worry that three times a week is "too much"; I objected that 90 minutes a week of workout is probably not enough to undo fifteen years of neglect. The nausea accompanied me all the way up on the ride into work, but by the time I sat down at my desk I was okay. Still feel tired, though. Tonight's the first night of Foolscap. I hope I'm not too spacey.
