weekend twitters that never were

Here is what my weekend twitter stream would have looked like if I already had the iPhone I will hopefully be getting in a few weeks:

Woke up this morning to Mother-in-Law: "Sorry to tell you but the basement is full of water." At least our contractor resurfaced recently.

Growing up, there was an unspoken "If one family member isn't having fun, no one is having fun" sort of rule. I still seem to live by it.

So I am surprised Wes thinks one of us should take toddler to gym class. Clearly, I am right choice for that job. He can clean basement.

First time at toddler gym class. Ridiculously cute. Climbing and bouncing and adorable. Until… "Muk, muk, muk." He wants to nurse.

I am NOT nursing in toddler gym class. Dammit.

He is distraught. Teachers are asking what's up with him, "He's usually leader of the pack." He will not let go of me. Hate this.

I am day weaning him. Today. That's it. Nursing to sleep I will keep. Nursing so I can sleep in I will keep. Day nursing. Done. As of now.

Asia and husband and twins visiting amidst chaos. Contractor needs one of us to go with him to buy pump for basement. I am nominated.

Old school plumbing supply storefront nearby. We walk there. Try to make smalltalk but contractor obsessed w/ finding and fixing leak. Yawn.

Old school plumbing supply people do not know what to make of me in their store. They keep asking if they can help me. I just wait to pay.

I know all jobs have their own vernacular but it is seriously like another language listening to the plumbing people.

Librarianism is like that, too, I guess. MARC records. ISBN numbers. The Dewey Decimal System.

At one point, men are talking about baby recently born and one guy teases other that he should buy the parents a bassinet. Then turns to me.

"That's what a baby sleeps in, right? A bassinet." "Um. At first," I say. "Yeah, a bassinet!" And they laugh. I am not sure what is funny.

Pump fixes main leak but there is some other tiny source still causing problems. More walls must be ripped out to find site of leak.

Teenager announces he is going to the Hamptons for the weekend. We ask very few questions, grateful to get him out of the water.

We decide that teenager must be moved up to rental apartment, recently vacated by my sister and her wife. Not ideal but no other options.

Teenager now has, for all intents and purposes, his own apartment in our home. There are pluses and minuses to this.

Saturday, take contractor to Lowe's for more supplies. He walks ten paces ahead of me. I feel like I am missing a burka or something.

We spend Saturday evening at Ikea shopping for new teen apartment. More fun than worrying about basement trickle that will not stop.

It's rained here for nearly three weeks straight, you know. Never had a problem like this before. Dammit.

The Ikea cafeteria really does make everything better. For a little while.

Did I mention we had an Open House scheduled for next weekend. Canceling that, I suppose.

Determined not to let basement ruin Father's Day. Let Wes sleep in. Stick to plan and go to High Line. Magnificent.

As usual, once we're in city we have hard time stopping. We roam Chelsea, we shop more. Better Burger has only good soy burger in the city.

Teen apartment vaguely assembled. Wonder if we will ever see him again. Heaven help us.

If I ever see another wet-dry vac, it will be too soon.