Michelle's response: Each just a little bit like you.
"What's your name?" I asked The Lad. "Who are you?"
"No, not please," I said. "What's your name?"
Before I could say no again, the husband interrupted. "He's not saying, 'please,'" the husband said. "He's saying 'Beast.' Right, Lad? Wesdebeast?"
The Lad nodded his head emphatically. "ES Da Beesh. ES Da Beesh. Beeshie."
I highly recommend this recipe from Smitten Kitchen. We made it with a single ribeye for all of us, but honestly, it would have been perfectly OK as a vegetarian recipe; ribeyes just happened to be on sale. The Lad didn't care for the corn tortillas we bought -- remember those fits of temper? Yeah, he pitched these across our dining room -- but ate half the charred corn filling by himself. (I expect to be dealing with THAT for the next few days.)
For dessert: lemon cake via Orangette. Also wonderful.
We went to the library Saturday morning. Taking the boys to the library is a mixed blessing for me. On one hand: books, my boys ... of course I love it. On the other hand: quiet library + noisy boys + wanting to look for my own books + grabby hands in the children's section = a cranky momma. The reason I love it though is seeing what the kiddos grab off the shelves. They grab randomly, but will take suggestions. Regardless, they each have very definite opinions about what makes a keeper. Dinosaurs are a universal favorite. The Boy leans toward nonfiction -- the two visits ago, he picked up a book about women in the American Revolution, which made my feminist heart proud -- and The Lad loves a good dog book.
The favorites this time around: See Spot, a flip-up book for The Lad that he can look at only with supervision, but which he loves to page through to try to find the elusive spot; and for The Boy, Dinosaur Babies, a nonfiction guess at what kind of parents dinosaurs were.
Of course, the dinosaur book only talks about the mothers. Deadbeat dino dads.
The husband was anything but a deadbeat this weekend. In addition to running 25 miles -- because he's nuts and training for a marathon in December -- he steam-cleaned our floors, dealt with the boys alone for several hours so I could shop and helped me with laundry, cooking and grocery shopping.
Sometimes, I feel like I do a lot more work around our house than the husband. But the reality is more equitable, I think. I read this blog post from Motherlode earlier in the week, discussing a new Time Magazine article that discussed new statistics from the U.S. Department of Labor showing that men and women did about the same amount of work -- in and out of the home -- each day. In families with kids under 18 and both parents employed full-time, women only did about 20 minutes more than men each day. I suspect that's probably the case in our house.
I haven't done an official, down-to-the-minute tally because, partly, I don't want to know the truth. I suspect it won't come out in my favor, to be honest. The husband does a lot that I don't give him credit for because it seems easy -- taking out the trash, cleaning kitty litter. It's like the difference between a manual labor job and an office one: One is harder physically, but you can leave it behind at the end of the day. The other is easier on the body, but you never stop thinking about it. I feel like in our house, I'm the white collar worker. I might not have the toughest jobs physically, but I keep everything running. (Of course, I say that, but then I remember that the husband is our banker soooooo.......
That brings me to the other reason I haven't done a tally. Like one of the follow-up posters on Motherlode, I've decided that keeping score doesn't automatically make things equal. The husband and I each handle the things we do best in our house. Together, we keep all of us clothed, fed and loved.
What about you guys? How was your weekend? Anything fun going on? Do you and your spouse have a chore chart?