My friends are visiting with their son who is almost two. I was excited to see how Edith would react to another kid, given time and space to warm up to him. Turns out, she wanted to use him to leverage herself into a standing position, which is how she relates to pretty much any person or object these days, and he wasn’t into that, so they agreed to eye each other from across the playroom while they minded their own affairs. Or, that is, he agreed to do that; she agreed to no such thing and was rather hard to restrain, especially when the other child came into possession of a crinkly package of Cheerios.

It’s been nice hanging out with other parents who understand that everything is a massive undertaking that requires an assortment of equipment and ample time and patience. We went out to dinner. I don’t go anywhere or do anything, so every time I am in a new location and guests come, they want to know where we can eat, and I am confronted with the fact that, despite living in a place for three years sometimes, I have no idea where anything is or what there is to do. It’s always hard to explain.

I do have an excuse here, though, because I’ve only lived here for a few months, and I have an infant. In this small town, your options are fast food, bars, or Mexican joints. And after we had visited about four Mexican joints with two small children in tow only to be met with closed signs, we learned (through experience) that Mexican places are closed on Mondays. I didn’t know this before! Or at least, I had never noticed it. Luckily, we finally found a Mexican place with a huge banner out front proclaiming OPEN MONDAYS and it was and we ate, and all was well.

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