Just the two of us...

Allen left last Friday for 10 days, including a 7 day stint canoeing in the boundary waters where he will only be available via satellite phone one hour a day. Due to the ridiculously high charges associated with communicating via satellite, Allen implied that I should only call him if copious amounts of blood were involved. As that hasn't been the case yet, Owen and I have been largely on our own.

It's been ok. The first night I made the mistake of thinking that admonishing Owen not to hurt himself while I used the bathroom 10 feet away was sufficient to insure that he didn't hurt himself. 3 seconds later I heard a "thud" and a scream as he fell off a stool. Saturday we managed to make swim lessons, play in his pool and pick out paint samples while contractors worked on our kitchen. Sunday we had a brief reprieve with swimming and dinner at Mom mom's after a morning of errands and the park. By Monday, Owen had resorted to wearing women's shoes in public. By Tuesday, I was taking him to bars.

It's now Wednesday. We're more than halfway through and things are looking up. Owen had two friends over to play this evening (or rather, two of the neighborhood kids invited themselves in to check out Owen's toys), we had dinner in the dining room like civilized people, and as a special treat, Daddy called to say that he was ok (apparently he isn't bound by the copious blood standard).

So what if bedtime has gravitated to nine o'clock, that we ate dinner standing over the kitchen counter last night and that bath time has degenerated into 3 minutes of Owen screaming and refusing to sit while I dump soap and water over him? Allen will be home in four more days and then all will be well.

Until he goes to Vienna in September...