“Mom, did you just say that my team’s name is the Little SLUGGERS? I had no idea! Every time I go to baseball, I always think my coach says our name is the Little SUCKERS.”
This morning I woke up with zero ambition.
Clearly, I needed to take Dolly’s advice from 1981 and tumble outta bed and stumble to the kitchen, to pour myself a cup of ambition. So… I did… because everything Dolly says is golden and should be followed.
It actually took two cups of hot ambition with some extra cream, as the good Lord intended His coffee beans to be treated, before I was able to get my act together and accept the fact that WE LIVE HERE. Ultimately, this means that the house that was perfectly clean YESTERDAY morning looked like an F5 tornado had hit a dedicated hoarder’s house THIS morning. I don’t know how our turnaround time, from clean to crime scene status, can happen in a matter of hours… but it does.
So, the hot cups of ambition finally worked their magic. I got beds made and dirty dishes cleaned up. I threw sixteen pounds of paper and tape (some call it kindergarten art projects; I call it clutter) into the garbage can. (Don’t even talk to me about recycling the kindergarten art projects, because the recycling truck only comes every two weeks. This means that those PROJECTS will sit there, waiting for that truck, for fourteen days. Fourteen days is plenty o’ time for a six year old to happen upon his ruined masterpiece shoved in the bin and declare you to be the WORST MOTHER SINCE MOMMY DEAREST! I can’t risk this happening, because then we have to rescue the crumpled papers and cardboard pieces and the seventy-four miles of Scotch tape, bring them back to our bedroom, and put them back on display. The garbage, which is taken out DAILY, is the only option.) I started a load of laundry in the washing machine and folded another load of laundry. I scrubbed dried yogurt off the dining room table. I picked Legos up. I picked more Legos up. And then I found four more stashes of Lego piles, and I picked those up.
And then I sat down to make a grocery list, because we are at the point in our lives where I open the fridge and see the bottle of French’s yellow mustard and the cantaloupe half that’s mushy, and wonder what recipe I could make with them. Sadly, by then my ambition had worn back off, and I simply decided that we didn’t actually need dinner tonight, because I couldn’t bring myself to responsibly plan out a menu and list all the ingredients I’d need at the store. However, I can’t put this grocery-fetching task off much longer, because TOMORROW IS THE DAY THE TOILET PAPER WILL BE GONE AT OUR HOUSE. Clearly, that means that tomorrow is the day that I will be forced to get a full cart of groceries and Charmin, because man shall not live without the toilet paper.
After I dropped Thing 2 off at soccer camp this morning, I came home to find the boy dressed in golf slacks and a polo. I was surprised that he was up so early on his day off from the golf course, but he grinned at me and said, “I thought I’d go golf eighteen holes.” Because OF COURSE. If he is not working at the golf course, then the boy is GOLFING at the golf course, or he is sleeping. The end. (And, for the record, his eighteen holes of golf that he said he was going to do turned into twenty-seven holes of golf. We may need a twelve-step program, because I think we may have a golf junkie on our hands.)
So… I started my third novel of the summer, which makes me feel empowered and like a normal human being again. I haven’t been reading lately… and by lately, I mean in the past six years… because there just isn’t TIME to read, when you’re the mother of an active infant / toddler / preschooler / kindergarten graduate. But, I felt like I was on top of my reading game this morning. I managed to read AN ENTIRE CHAPTER, before the laundry bells whistled and then I never did get back to look into chapter two. Soccer camp was over, we went to the park with one of my friend’s and her five-year-old son, and we came home for a lunch of gluten-free corn dogs.
(Let me endorse the gluten-free corn dogs and just say this one thing: THEY. FALL. APART. They’re quite delicious, and Thing 2 is quite smitten with them, but all that gluten in a regular corn dog must hold the breading together, because the ones without the gluten crumble like cracker crumbs and leave you with a naked dog.)
And then… after we had picked up all the Legos again (because that is the story of our lives), we hauled the kiddie pool out of the garage and tossed it onto the deck. Today was our first day without clouds in ages, and filling a little blue plastic pool felt absolutely as American as apple pie and baseball.
You know the ones:
Have a great Thursday, y’all.
Small Town’s movie theater puts on a series of summer matinees for the kids, because they enjoy providing the children with something to do once a week in June, July and August. They also know that EXTRA CONCESSION SALES ALL SUMMER MEANS CHRISTMAS BONUSES COME DECEMBER. That theater is thinking ahead. I used to buy the strip of tickets, which covers all three months’ worth of weekly shows, for the boy, when he was a little tot, and we always had so much fun going together. And then the boy grew up, and he decided that his teenage self had far better things to do with his days of freedom than watch an animated film with his mama.
Cue the years when we didn’t do the summer movie matinees. Those afternoon movies were something we simply forgot about.
And then Thing 2 came along, and FINALLY! The kid can now sit still long enough to appreciate a good bag of popcorn, an air-conditioned theater, and a decent cartoon. So, for the first time since the boy hit seventh grade, I bought strips of tickets for the summer.
Today was a movie matinee day.
And it poured rain today.
The type of rain that comes out of the sky like no one has witnessed since Noah was here.
Thing 2 and I were in the library when the storm struck. We tried to wait it out, because our car was on the far side of the library’s parking lot, but that horrendous downpour showed absolutely zero inclination to ease up, so we ran. I held hands with my six year old and tried to protect our stack of library books, as we ran like racehorses for our car. Clearly, the time I spent with the hot rollers in my bathroom this morning was a complete waste. We were soaked clear through to the bone, but we still made plans to hit the movie theater.
As did every!! single!! child!! in Small Town. Actually, I suspect that all of the other children’s MOTHERS made plans for them to see the show today, because RAIN, RAIN, GO AWAY, THESE KIDS STUCK INSIDE MAKE ME CRAY-CRAY.
Or something like that.
Let me tell you, that theater was pushing the fire codes on seating today, and… to my utter delight… the little girl behind us dropped her kid pack of popcorn AND her soda. Since the theater slopes downward, toward the screen, gravity took over, and her Dr. Pepper ran beneath my feet.
There ain’t nothin’ so wonderful as having your feet stick in a fresh soda spill for ninety-four entire minutes, while you watch an animated flick about squirrels reclaiming a city park during the wicked mayor’s construction scheme to destroy it. Everywhere I put my feet was another spot that was dripping Dr. Pepper. The obvious solution would have been to just move and change seats, but that wasn’t possible, as EVERY SINGLE SEAT was taken. We had a zero percent chance of finding anywhere else to park ourselves, if we dared to stand up.
The noise level before the show started was the equivalent of a poorly-run chicken farm, boasting thirty-six thousand laying hens. I texted Hubs about the catastrophe behind me. I told him my feet were stuck to the floor, that my eardrums would never recover from the noise, and to PLEASE COME TRADE PLACES WITH ME! I encouraged him to be the PARENT ON DUTY this afternoon.
Hubs texted me back and said, “Hush. I just closed the blinds in my office and tipped my comfy desk chair back. I’m going to have a little nap right here, in all this quiet.”
And THAT’S why Hubs is having cold cereal for supper tonight.
I am nearly three entire weeks late posting the pictures, but I really DID take some snapshots of my boys on their last day of school, because OF COURSE I DID.
I don’t know if I’ve ever been so emotional over a last day of school before, because this fall… when they return to school… the boy will be a senior.
It will be his last year of school.
I can’t even deal.
And kindergarten is over… for the second time in our lives.
I can’t even deal there, either, because there is something completely magical about kindergarten. Those little six-year-olds are so bright-eyed and full of wonder and love. Helping with kindergarten centers every single week was a complete joy in my life, as I moved about the classroom, helping kids with their letters and numbers and sentences.
Kindergarten is EXTREMELY magical.
And, at our school, part of that magic has to be because of the teacher my boys had. They both had Mrs. F. The boy had her when HE was six, and so did Thing 2. She is the gentlest, kindest, most compassionate girl we know. She is soft-spoken and radiates kindness and love. She handles everything, from a fistfight on the playground to hurt feelings to puke on the floor, with grace and mercy and wisdom.
Basically, she’s the wind beneath my wings, and we all love her.
It was hard for us to accept the fact that she was going to pass Thing 2 to the first grade, because that means that we are done in her classroom. We tried to convince her that we should repeat kindergarten, but she wouldn’t even consider it. I don’t know whether Thing 2 is just that smart… or whether she was secretly pouring wine in the teachers’ lounge because she had survived the school year with him.
Here she is with the boy, on HIS last day of kindergarten, when she was eight months pregnant with her second baby. That second baby is about to turn eleven now, which doesn’t even seem possible, because it was just yesterday I was bringing her decaf lattes when I showed up at the school for kindergarten centers in 2007.
It would appear that my boys wore the same shirt on their last days of kindergarten. What are the odds, eleven years later, that Thing 2 had on the boy’s old sleeveless shirt?!
Now, if y’all will just hold me and counsel me and pat me on the head with some thoughtful “There, theres,” as I gear myself up to HANDLE MY CHILD’S SENIOR YEAR OF HIGH SCHOOL WITHOUT TURNING INTO A TRAIN WRECK, I’d appreciate it.
And if you can offer up some prayers for Thing 2’s first grade teacher, Mrs. R, who is a beloved friend of mine who really thinks she can handle our second son with ease and barely any wine, that would be fantastic. We’re planning to come in hot to the first grade and set her world on fire! I’m also planning to consistently bring her lattes this fall, when I come for first grade centers, to keep that darling girl fully caffeinated.
Happy Wednesday, y’all.
Hello, good people of the World Wide Web, who continue to open this blog in their browsers, even though I have basically discontinued all forms of writing here. I always have an excuse for ignoring my office here at Jedi Mama, Inc., and tonight I blame the books.
As in, the REAL BOOKS. Once upon a time (Did you see what I did there? Talking about books? And then I used a story starter for this paragraph?), I used to read and read and also R-E-A-D. I was a voracious reader, who devoured approximately six books every month, give or take. And then Thing 2 arrived in my golden years, when all of my friends are at an age where they’re attending book clubs while they sip wine, learning pinochle and taking up full-time knitting in the heat of the afternoon. Thing 2 keeps us on our toes, because… well… he proved to scientists across the globe that perpetual motion CAN be achieved. So, while my friends are all sitting in lawn chairs on their decks, knowing that their teenage children can fend for themselves, I’m over here at my house, hollering, “WHY are there foam Nerf darts in my refrigerator?” and “We NEVER stack two chairs atop one another to reach the upper cabinets!” Keeping Thing 2 alive is a full-time job, so something (mainly, the reading of actual books) had to give. But… WHOA, NELLY! Because I am not even kidding you when I say that I have already read two entire books THIS SUMMER, and it’s only June 19th. I haven’t read two books in the past eight months, unless you count online articles entitled IS MY KID WEIRD BECAUSE HE JUST USED A PURPLE MARKER TO COLOR HIS BARE ARMS, FROM FINGERTIPS TO ELBOWS, SO THAT HE CAN PRETEND HE’S A PURPLE DRAGON, as a book. I feel like I’m ready to join a book club now, as long as no one minds that I sign up to bring paper plates when we meet each month, because the chances of me having enough time to make roasted figs with prosciutto and goat cheese is a solid, rock-bottom zero.
I just downloaded a heap of snapshots from my iPhone to my Big Mac, and thought I’d give y’all a glimpse into what’s been happening around here lately, based on the sort of pictures I take.
Also, I should warn you that these are not the typical snapshots that appear on Instagram. I peek into the lives of so many strangers on the Insta, who all have these gorgeously decorated homes, with these gorgeous children, and everything is always just… well… gorgeous. The reason I can’t achieve perfection in my iPhone pictures, is because I have to say things like “You have bark chips from the playground IN. YOUR. UNDIES!!!” and “How on earth does one kid get this much sand in his hair?” If it’s outside, you can bet your last package of bacon that Thing 2 will be bringing it INSIDE. Currently, Thing 2 has a Tupperware container on his bedroom dresser, which holds six dead bugs. Tupperware containers are where Thing 2 puts bugs… to die. He keeps them as pets and loves them with an enormous heart, but being carried around in an unventilated, plastic container tends to take its toll on an insect. I also pulled a handful of dried lilacs out of Thing 2’s bedding a few days ago. I’m to the point in my life now, where I seldom even ask WHY. But that night I did, and my son replied, “Oh! So that’s where those went. I picked them for you, Mom… and then I lost them… but I guess they were in my bed.”
At any rate, the snapshots are certainly not glamorous, but they show our lives CLEARLY.
Our biggest news is that our boys gained two extra cousins this weekend! Hubs’ brother got married on Saturday, and we enthusiastically welcomed his new wife and her two children into our family, because they’re simply wonderful. Cousin Z and Cousin T are two of the best teenagers around!
And? Have I mentioned how much cotton the giant cottonwood trees in our neighborhood put down? This snapshot is ONE DAY’S WORTH OF COTTON SPILLAGE. Hubs and the boy can’t breathe while the cotton flies, because SEVERE ALLERGIES. I have no seasonal allergies to speak of, but I have SEVERE IRRITATION over all the yuck from these trees. Every single day, that cotton gets wet in sprinklers… or from evening rain showers… and it turns to white, fuzzy slime in my flowerbeds… and on my car… and on my deck… and my patio… and everything else that lives outside. It’s enough for me to tell Hubs eight times a day, “I am ready to move!”
And… as if the cotton isn’t enough… when the wind blows… the SEEDS are shaken right out of the trees. It’s always so lovely to come home after a good windstorm and find your driveway covered in a layer of muck that needs to be swept off.
Thing 2 is going through a ninja / spy phase at the moment. His greatest joy comes each day when he rips off the outfit I’ve dressed him in and changes into his “black-on-black-on-black” ensemble. He then sneaks around the house, hiding behind furniture and offering karate-style kicks for free.
Thing 2 went to a local Vacation Bible School this week. He had a blast because they had squirt gun wars almost daily, and then sent the kids home soaking wet. Squirt gun wars are our boy’s love language! My friend Jill was the official VBS photographer last week, and she managed to get a good shot of our kid laughing, while he took a direct shot from a friend’s gun.
The boy had a band concert the week school wrapped up. Thing 2 and a friend of his were hauled along to watch their big brothers perform on stage for the crowded auditorium, and I am happy to report that BOTH of these kindergarten kiddos SAT POLITELY FOR NINETY-MINUTES! Can I get a HALLELUJAH?!
Our local library has enormous tubs of Lego bricks, which the librarian puts out on Friday afternoons. The kids can build to their little hearts’ content, and then the librarian puts their masterpieces on display in a glass showcase in the front entry. Thing 2 LOVES to pop in on Fridays for this, to keep his architectural skills sharp.
Cousin W graduated from high school at the tail end of May. Thing 2 wrote him a paper note and wrapped it in a Happy Meal box. He was so incredibly proud of his wrap-job, his heart was bursting. He couldn’t wait to deliver his homemade, home-wrapped present to W. And Cousin W, who wants to be a teacher because he loves kids so much, showed the same amount of appreciation for that little note in the Happy Meal box as he would have shown for a brand new Maserati in his driveway! He thanked Thing 2 repeatedly. He’s gonna make one dang good teacher!
I don’t even remember if this snapshot of Thing 2 was him posing with his first cotton candy, his second cotton candy, or his third cotton candy, which was the one his mother cut him off on, because RESPONSIBLE PARENTING.
Hubs’ parents hosted a family barbecue over Memorial Day Weekend. All the cousins were there, and Thing 2 talked them in to hiding EASTER EGGS, of all things, for him! He spent the afternoon searching the yard, and having a bawl with his “Easter at the End of May” game.
Hubs took Thing 2 to a building workshop at Home Depot. Apparently, every kindergarten child we know had the same idea, because it was like a six-year-old reunion down there, amidst the hammers and tiny nails.
In early June, the reason Hubs and I had MAN CHILDREN became clear, as we needed to trim the cottonwood trees lining our driveway. What we REALLY wanted to do was chop those cottonwoods off at their bases with giant chainsaws, but we settled for taking the limbs that smacked our vehicles on a daily basis out. And? GUESS WHERE THE BULK OF OUR MANUAL LABOR CAME FROM?! That’s right! FROM THE CHILDREN!
And in new developments at the Jedi House, the boy brought home an actual trumpet on the last day of school, because he announced that he was going to teach himself to play it over the summer. I imagine for the normal child, teaching oneself to play a brand new instrument might be kind of hard, but the boy is musical… times one thousand… and he’s almost mastered it. Hubs played the trumpet for three years, before the music teacher kicked him out of band class forever, for blowing boxelder bugs out of his trumpet, across the classroom. And, after three years of lessons, Hubs announced, “The boy already plays the trumped a million times better than I ever did, after two days of practicing.”
Of course, the little brother likes to have HIS trumpet lessons, too, so you can imagine how my nerves feel around this house these days. I believe I texted Hubs at one point and said, “The trumpet playing is going to kill me dead with all it’s off-key, full-volume trumpeting!”
A friend of mine and I met in the park at 8:00 one morning last week for coffee. While we sipped coffee, I told Thing 2, “Please play on the playground, and STAY. OUT. OF. THAT. DITCH. Don’t get in the water and the mud!” I believe that his outfit that day is a testament to whether he minded me or not.
Thank goodness another friend of mine came through with a king’s load of hand-me-down clothes, from her two boys. We are all about the hand-me-downs at this house, and my friend Carrie delivers the best castoff clothing in the world!
Thing 2 and I were playing at the park one afternoon, when someone pointed out a mama owl and her two babies, high up in a tree. We managed to catch a blurry shot of one of the teenage owlets. Thing 2 was fascinated with them, and BEGGED ME to let him climb the tree and try to grab one for his pet.
Um… just no.
I took my rambunctious six-year-old to the local greenhouse one afternoon last week, and ran into a friend. While we were talking amidst the perennials, Thing 2 disappeared. I could HEAR him around the corner, so I wasn’t worried about him…
… until he came back to us, showing us the train he had made. He’d linked all the wagons for plants together, and was busy turning them into the world’s fastest sidewalk train, as he RACED LIKE DASH INCREDIBLE through the greenhouse. It was every bit as relaxing and wonderful as you would imagine.
We signed up for baseball, which happens bright and early every Saturday morning. I don’t know whose idea THAT was! Oh, wait. It was mine. Apparently, I’m trying to turn my hockey-loving son into a baseball-loving son, because traveling for baseball games happens in the sunshine, when there’s no snow. Traveling for hockey games in the years to come is going to kill me dead, because I don’t actually DO winter travel on icy roads! When we ask Thing 2 how he liked practice, he always tells us, “I love batting, but I don’t like being in the grass, waiting for a ball to come to me. That part’s boring. It isn’t as fun as hockey.” Clearly, my plan for summer travel over winter travel is not going in my favor.
Thing 2 went to a birthday party a couple of nights ago, for a little fellow from his kindergarten class. The boys were BEYOND THRILLED to see one another, after two weeks of no school. Everyone hugged and screeched their enthusiasm at being together again, and then they had an enormous water balloon fight. The mom said, “Well. I spent one hour and forty-five minutes filling those water balloons, and they were all gone in four minutes!” Funny how life works!
And we have a six-year-old who is in love with his summer homework right now! I bought two 1st grade workbooks, to keep his brain fresh over the summer, and we have been trying to do a few pages in them each day. Hubs and I just grinned a couple of nights ago when Thing 2 announced, “I just LOVE having homework! Finally! I get homework like a high school kid does!!”
And, finally, we’re kind of in to documentaries right now at our house. Thing 2 is taking a break from nightly cartoons before bedtime (which is about the only time his stingy mom lets him turn the TV on), so that he can watch documentaries, filling him in on such subjects as penguins, dolphins, butterflies, volcanoes and trains. He was absolutely glued to a train show a couple of nights ago, soaking in every bit of information the narrator gave him. He then spends the next twenty-four hours, spouting all of his newfound knowledge to anyone who will listen!
And the boy? Yes… I KNOW! He barely appears in any of these pictures, because the boy HAS A REAL JOB, and he WORKS REAL HOURS, in exchange for REAL PAYCHECKS, and he REALLY LOVES IT! He’s working again at the golf course this summer, and he’s averaging about fifty hours and fifty thousand dollars each week! He’s simply never with us when I whip my iPhone out for a snapshot or nine!
Happy Tuesday night, y’all.
Well… we are knee-deep in summer vacation. Thing 2 asked me the other day, “Is it Saturday today?” I told him that it wasn’t; it was Tuesday. He replied, “Well, it FEELS like Saturday!” And I guess that sums up our lives at the moment: Every day feels like Saturday, which is really the entire goal of summer break, right?
On the day that I checked out of my PE classes… after having filled out the appropriate checklist of DID YOU CLOSE ALL THE WINDOWS? DID YOU FILL OUT A REQUISITION FORM FOR NEEDED SUPPLIES IN THE FALL? DID YOU MAKE A NOTE FOR MAINTENANCE ON REPAIRS OR WORK THAT NEEDS DONE IN YOUR CLASSROOM? and turned it in to our principal… I walked out of the school with a light heart and thought, “This will be the summer when I get all kinds of stuff done at home.” Oh, I had a mental list going, too. Closets! The closets need cleaned. Actually, the closets at our house needed gutted, fumigated, and reorganized, if you want to know the real truth. I have a cabinet that Hubs built for me years ago that needs painted. I have a pantry that needs spiced up with some form of organization that we can stick to and not abandon two weeks after we clean it out. I have GOBS of boxes and bags of hand-me-down clothes for Thing 2, which need to be sorted through, into piles of IT FITS NOW and IT WILL FIT NEXT YEAR. I have toy boxes that need lit on fire and burned to the ground, because I am not passionate about 3.2 million toys that sit, completely unused, in them, hogging precious real estate in the little man’s bedroom. So yes. I walked out of my last PE class on June 1st and thought, “After our staff party to celebrate summer, I am going to become a machine that sorts out my house.” I guess you could say this was going to be the summer that I got my affairs in order.
And here I am, two full weeks later, with nary a single thing checked off my list except that one line item that reads TAKE THING 2 TO THE PARK.
So THAT’S happening around here.
And what else is going on at the Jedi Manor? Not a lot.
Hubs and I did put apps on our phones that actually track the exact amount of time we spend on them each day, because we had each accused the other of being glued to an iPhone screen too long. We made a bet with prizes for the winner, to see who uses their phone less in June. I feel like I pick my phone up constantly, to fill every down minute of the day, and I’m horrified about it. My 1988 self is also shocked, because GO TEASE YOUR BANGS SOME MORE INSTEAD OF OPENING FACEBOOK AGAIN… but also my 1988 self is a little impressed, because she always knew her future self would have a phone like Jane Jetson did. Anyway. We have had this app on our phones for an entire week now, and I beat Hubs five out of seven days for the least amount of screen time. I made a giant point of declaring myself the WEEKLY WINNER OF THE CHICKEN DINNER last night, when Hubs explained, “I use my phone for work, you know.”
I looked at Hubs and said, “I also use my phone for work, and look! I logged in thirty-three minutes on it today, and you logged in an hour and forty-nine minutes.”
Hubs looked at me with his eyebrows raised and said, “You’re using your phone for work, too?”
Because it’s apparent that Hubs has hard feelings about summer vacation, but all I have to say is this: He could have chosen to go into education as a career choice in college, too, for the payoff of JUNE, JULY and also AUGUST. I told Hubs, “Yes. I ALSO use my phone for work. Just today, I had to text the boy to see if he needed me to bring him some lunch while he was working at the golf course, and I also had to Google MY PACKAGE OF BONELESS CHICKEN BREASTS IS TWO DAYS PAST THE SELL-BY DATE, before I just went with my gut instinct and threw it out, to the tune of $9 in the garbage.”
Hubs said, “Well, I made real calls to real clients and fixed someone’s computer… FROM MY OFFICE, WITH MY PHONE.”
Blah, blah, blah.
In other news, the boy is working approximately fifty hours a week right now at the golf course, and then he golfs eighteen holes when he gets off work, so that translates into WE NEVER SEE HIM. I know he still lives here, because he leaves wet towels on his bathroom floor, and he occasionally texts me to see if I could please wash his work polos.
Thing 2 has been at Vacation Bible School all this week, with nine million other children. I was so excited to send him, because I basically had from 9 AM to noon each day this week to KNOCK OUT MY LIST OF CHORES. What has ended up happening, though, is that I’ve come back home after the VBS drop-off… and heard all the utter SILENCE.
So I knocked out a John Grisham novel this week, which has been sitting in my bookcase, unread, for two years. Apparently, this was the week where I expanded my brain’s capacity for knowledge by reading, and I do feel decently qualified to be a full-fledged lawyer at the moment, after reading up on a fictional attorney. Call me, if you need any legal needs met.
And… I have knocked out the Mount Everest of Laundry this week, AND I power washed our front and back patios, the driveway AND the deck, which… let’s face it: If nothing else gets done in June, there was at least that week when all the laundry was caught up and the outside areas were scrubbed clean for one day, before the cotton started flying again.
(Also? In case you’re wondering… Hell is going to be covered in cotton that has flown off of trees. It is going to stick to everything in Hell, and make your life as miserable as it can be here on Earth, when you have a six-year-old who leaves the door open for all the cotton to blow right in every day. So… you’d better get yourselves right with Jesus, so you can spend eternity without ever knowing the pain of inhaling an airborne bit of cotton fluff straight up your nose. Hubs and the boy cannot breathe right now, and their eyes are swollen and red, because COTTON ALLERGIES. I missed out on seasonal allergies altogether, which I feel like I shouldn’t actually brag about, but I fight my own battle with cotton all over my hardwood floors, and cotton that has gotten wet from the sprinklers in my flower beds. Now THAT is messier than a nose that’s stuffed shut.)
Plus, I paid someone real American dollars to come in and wash all of my windows, because I felt like this was a good use of my money. Professional window washer have all the right tools, and they can knock out a job in forty-five minutes that would have taken me all the livelong day long and cut into my reading time. (You know… since I am currently trying to beat Hubs by never using my phone.) At this very moment, my windows are so clean, they look like they’re not even there, which means I have a completely UNOBSTRUCTED VIEW OF ALL THE COTTON SAILING THROUGH OUR NEIGHBORHOOD.
God bless the cotton-filled cottonwoods, but it’s okay if He wants to strike a few with lightning bolts this month.
And… this is my baby this week, looking like he’s ready for college, instead of just the first grade.
I think that all the chores will get underway next week… unless I decide another book is calling my name.
Happy summer weekend, y’all.
Hubs and I both slept in until 7:30 this morning. I can’t be one hundred percent positive, but I THINK the last time I slept that late was when I was a high school freshman. Apparently, Thing 2 felt the need to catch up on some rest, which… JUST FINALLY! I put him into bed at 8:00 last night, and we didn’t hear a peep out of him until 7:30 this morning, which was when I looked at Hubs and yelled out the time.
It was exactly like I do, every time we drive by a pasture of cows. I have a terrible tendency to yell the obvious. “Cows!”
By 8:15 this morning, Hubs had gone to work, I was cleaning a kitchen that didn’t get cleaned up after dinner last night, the boy was still sleeping, and Thing 2 had settled into our sofa, like a slug, with the iPad. I’m one of THOSE moms, who genuinely can’t stand to see kids sit around, playing video games. I tend to be incredibly stingy with iPad time, when it comes to my six-year-old. GET OUT AND DO SOMETHING! For the most part, Thing 2 is happy to do just that, because playing outside is his love language. But, on the off chance that he can steal some time with the iPad, he is all in and glued to the screen.
At noon today, I finally kicked him off.
Go ahead and judge.
My little man played the iPad from 8:15 to noon. Math was never my strong subject, but, as best as I can calculate, that would be fifteen minutes shy of a four-hour stint. Thing 2 doesn’t accumulate four hours on the iPad IN AN ENTIRE MONTH, y’all! It’s just not a go-to option at our house.
With the house cleaned up and laundry spinning in the washing machine and dinner simmering in the crockpot and the boy at work and Thing 2’s eyes glazed over with blue-light fatigue, I looked at my small kid and said, “Let’s go to the lake!”
He was game.
We did not go with a lot of preparation. It was the most spontaneous trip of ever. I put a pair of swim trunks on Thing 2, grabbed his life vest and a shovel, put the sunscreen and two bottles of Gatorade and a towel in the car, and off we went. We had no snacks, no dry clothes, no lawn chair, no book for Mama to read, and no lake toys to speak of. And… do y’all know what? It didn’t matter one bit, because SHOVEL!
Next to the Legos, Thing 2’s real shovel is his favorite toy, and he dug PLENTY OF HOLES at the lake today.
The kind of weather where you sit up a little straighter and say, “God, you really outdid Yourself today. This breeze! And this sunshine! And the fact that it’s 77 degrees! And the green grass! And the blue water!” It was all just lovely.
The only thing that wasn’t overly lovely was the temperature of the lake water, because it just hasn’t had time to warm up enough yet, after the ice melted off of it. Thing 2 wasn’t into swimming today, but he was in the water the entire time, wading and splashing. He caught minnows and ladybugs, and he even managed to paddle an inflatable raft he borrowed from a stranger kid he had met just twenty minutes earlier.
In other words, he had the best afternoon ever.
Spaghetti was waiting for us in the crockpot, and THAT felt like a win, too!
Have a good weekend, y’all.
Summer vacation is in full swing around here, as evidenced by the fact that we got up bright and early to celebrate Summer Vacation, Day Two.
Except, it wasn’t really bright. It was just early. That’s because the sun tends to still be on China’s side of the globe at 1:30 in the morning here. Thing 2 was ready to get up and build with Legos or go on an adventure, but his mother squashed his summer dreams by insisting that IT WAS THE STINKING MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT.
Seriously? Do I have the only time-challenged child walking this planet? Who else has a kid who just wakes up at 1:30 in the morning and then goes back to sleep at 4:30 AM? Raise your hand; come forward. Let’s start a support group. There will be strong coffee, and it’ll be a place where you’re safe to use cuss words.
Hubs took great pleasure in pulling Thing 2’s blankets off of him at 7:45 this morning, as he loudly announced, “Rise and shine! You’re not gonna sleep in all morning, after partying all night!” In other words, I think we’re fully prepared to handle the teenage years.
We ended up going to a free event at the local museum this morning.
The boy didn’t work at the golf course today, so we hauled him along with us. One of my children went in Ralph Lauren and dress loafers, while the other one of my children went in a ratty Spider-Man T-shirt and his light-up cowboy boots, complete with REAL SPURS.
I had never actually even been to Small Town’s museum before, but lo! I saw the AIRPLANE DAY FOR KIDS event advertised, and… since I have a kid who is nuts about airplanes… I signed him up, and off we went. I had heard the tales that a dozen or so kids go to these little Summer Tuesdays at the Museum, so imagine my surprise when there were forty kids in attendance, who were all dragging a mother along with them. Apparently, Airplane Day is a big deal around here.
The hostess started the event with a story about airplanes in Small Town, and how our airport came to be built. In the middle of her book-reading, Thing 2 raised his hand and ever-so-very-much-politely asked, “Excuse me? Do you see that picture of that giant train on the wall? How old is it?”
Get distracted much?!
The nice lady told him that she was basically train-illiterate, but that he was welcome to ask at the front desk, so up my son stood. He hollered across the crowd of children seated on the floor, to me… where I was standing clear in the back, trying to distance myself from him so that others wouldn’t know he was mine… “Hey, Mom! I need to go to the front desk to find out about that train!”
What was that you asked? IS OUR LIFE EVER DULL? No. No, it is not.
We convinced Thing 2 that this was AIRPLANE DAY, and that TRAIN DAY was actually not happening, so PLEASE! Hush and listen to the story about how our local airport came to be. When the story was finished, there was a craft for the kids to do: BUILD YOUR OWN AIRPLANE. I had told Thing 2 that we would be building one, because I had read the write-up online about the event. He was convinced that he’d be using electrical wires and a soldering gun to build a drone that he could control remotely. I crossed my fingers that he wouldn’t be overly disappointed with the small fact that the planes were being constructed out of wooden clothespins, with balsam wood wings, glue and cheap paint.
He spent the next thirty minutes staring at that detailed train, which was displayed amidst a model of Small Town’s hills and valleys. He asked me how we could build one. He asked me if we could BUY THIS ONE. He asked me a thousand questions about trains, and then he finally had to go to the front desk and ask more about trains. I’m not sure that the man working the front desk had ever been put to work quite like he was today, as Thing 2 grilled him relentlessly about the displays.
The airplanes were forgotten, because… as much as our boy enjoys a plane… TRAINS are his real love language.
So now we’re just home this evening, trying to convince a six-year-old that building a train diorama isn’t one of my life goals, nor is it something on Hubs’ bucket list.
Happy Tuesday, y’all. May your night be blessed with children who sleep, and no more questions about trains.
Just THIS, y’all!
I have crossed the finish line.
I’d like to tell you the finish line was for a triathlon, because LOOK AT ME BIKE AND SWIM AND RUN AND BE AN ATHLETE WITH ABS, but the honest truth is that I crossed the school year’s finish line, and I have walked into summer vacation.
As of 3:00 this afternoon.
And really? I crossed that line limping and dragging… BECAUSE MAY! May is when every teacher everywhere says, “Let’s just do this one more thing.” In the past week, I’ve been to academic ceremonies, golf ceremonies, class picnics, writing ceremonies, band concerts, and kindergarten centers. This past weekend, we had seven graduation parties on our calendar, plus the actual graduation ceremony and a Memorial Day barbecue. On the flip side of that, we have no clean jeans, no clean underwear, no groceries in the refrigerator, and we haven’t made a bed at this house in over a week.
Plus… Thing 2 got up at 4:45 yesterday morning…
… we were completely out of coffee at our house.
It felt every bit as hard as Caroline Ingalls must’ve had it on the prairie, when I grabbed a mug from our kitchen counter… pre-5:00 yesterday morning… and pushed it under the Keurig… only to discover that WE… HAD… NO… COFFEE. We had half-and-half a-plenty. We had an abundance of half-and-half, but lo! There was nary a drop of coffee to put the half-and-half into, and what I wanted to do at that exact moment was bawl my head off, as I dialed my mom’s phone number to mumble, with snot dripping from my nose, “The baby is awake and we have no coffee, Mommy!”
You can bet that a trip was made to the local drive-thru coffee shack, before all the gym classes got underway. As my little first graders… my very first class of the morning… came scrambling into the gym, I whispered to them, “Please don’t talk to me until I’ve managed to drink half of this cup. If you do, we’re going to run the mile today, instead of playing END OF THE YEAR DODGEBALL.”
(*big sigh of relief*)
I am planning to wash all of the laundry tomorrow, as I sit here and debate whether to attempt it at home, in a marathon experience, or whether it would be easier just to cart it all to the laundromat and be done in one swoop. And then I’m getting groceries, because we are at that point in our lives when I open the refrigerator and wonder what I can make for dinner with a bottle of A-1 steak sauce and a carton of expired banana cream yogurt.
Y’all have a good Wednesday evening. I’m just going to sit over here at my house and grin, because I’m on summer vacation already, but my boys still have two more days left of school!
When your mom gives the nod of approval after you’ve asked if you can make your own breakfast, you make a cup of dry Cheerios and pop open a can of lemonade, because HEY! It’s Memorial Day, and you want your holiday meal to be… well… memorable.
And if you have served our country in our military, then the Jedi family would like to clap for you and say thanks. If we could, we’d have you over for dry Cheerios and canned lemonade, too.