Memorial Day Weekend ’12

As excited as I am for school to JUST END ALREADY!, wrapping up the Memorial Day Weekend means one thing:  We have four more days of the elementary school left, and then the boy’s childhood will be a thing of the past, as he moves on to junior high.

And I expect more gray hairs, which means increased bills at the salon for YES, DARK BROWN, PLEASE, AND THROW IN SOME HIGHLIGHTS, AND I DON’T CARE WHAT IT COSTS, AS LONG AS IT MAKES ME LOOK TWENTY.

But yes.  Our three-day weekend has come to a close, and I thought I’d share the highlights with you.

On Thursday, Sister become officially OLD, so my parents took everyone out to a local pub for dinner.  We took our boys, and I would just like to go on the record and say one thing:  Thing 2 does not fully understand yet what it means to DINE WITH MANNERS.  While six-month-old Cousin H sat like a genuine lady on different laps at the table and smiled politely and cooed adorably, Thing 2 squirmed.  And fidgeted.  And threw his head back to clock me in the eye with his skull.  And then he used his outdoor voice, as he shouted his pleasure over the FAN!  LOOK, MA!  THEY HAVE A CEILING FAN HERE, TOO!, because Thing 2’s most favorite thing in the world is a good ceiling fan set to low, and he gets PLUM DANG EXCITED to find one in a room.  And then Thing 2 hollered.  And he fussed.  And he smiled with enthusiasm.  And he wanted to stand up.  And he wanted to sit down.  And he wanted to bounce.  And he wanted to stand up again.

I felt like I had been through a war, as my hair fell out of it’s sassy little messy bun, so that all the efforts I put into achieving Hair Glory simply made me look like I lived in a house on wheels with a 1972 El Camino set up on cinder blocks in a yard protected by six bloodhounds.  The ladies at the table behind us told me, “Your baby is gorgeous!  He’s absolutely adorable, and wow!  He is loud!”

Ya think?

So… happy birthday again, Sister.  My memory of our family dinner was similar to my memories of catching greased piglets at the fair.

I can’t even remember Friday, but I think it involved a lot of wind and rain and laundry.

On Saturday, Thing 2 was up early enough that the rooster said, “Please keep it down; I’m sleeping.”  So Hubs and I showered, and we hauled the boys into Walmart when Walmart was dead.  Our game plan was to beat the weekend crowd, and oh, people!  We succeeded there.  I think there were two other elderly shoppers and a couple of ranchers buying donuts in the entire super shopping center.

The boy had brought every gift card he had to Walmart, which was SEVERAL, because we had tucked them all into a cupboard after his birthday last August and Christmas.  We sort of forgot we had them, until Hubs, in a fit of frustration brought on by HOLY SNOT, BUT EVERYTHING FELL OUT OF THIS STUPID CUPBOARD, AND WHY DO WE STILL HAVE GYMBOREE COUPONS THAT EXPIRED IN 2010?, decided to take it upon himself to clean the offending cupboard last week.

The boy was delighted, because FREE MONEY!  So he bought a giant Lego set, because what else would he have purchased when he was given free reign and a plastic card to swipe at the checkout lane?

And then I played my Terrible Mother Card, because I said, “There will be no Lego building until everything in the house sparkles.”  Hubs and the boy looked at me like my horns had actually grown bigger, but I stared them down, and I won.  We had Family Chore Time, and we accomplished in 90 minutes what it usually takes me four hours to do alone.  Bathrooms were sanitized; counters were cleared; floors were vacuumed and scrubbed; laundry was folded; furniture was dusted and polished.  My sanity returned, and my menfolk were eventually released from all the slavery.  The boy immediately set to building Batman’s Bat Cave out of Lego bricks, and Hubs laid on the sofa with the iPad to read about what the Avalanche players are all doing now.

Can you say GOLFING because of WE DIDN’T SCORE ENOUGH GOALS TO TAKE US TO THE STANLEY CUP SERIES?

On Saturday night, Thing 2 was invited to his very! first! birthday! party!  That’s right.  Thing 2’s BFF turned one on Saturday, and we were off, armed with a Little People school bus wrapped in fluorescent green wrapping paper to give as a gift.

Here’s the birthday boy.  His name is Gavin.  He belongs to our good friends, Greg and Lisa, and yes… he’s adorable.

We fully expect Gavin and Thing 2 to run around together throughout their entire lives, getting into trouble and flashing us super cute grins to get OUT OF said trouble.

The boy helped Gavin ring in his birthday, too.

See the yellow cup?  Well.  Lisa made amaretto slushies.  They were not horrible.  They are like grown-up snowcones in a Solo cup.  And then there is part of the boy’s new Lego set beside him, too.  He seldom leaves our house without a pocket full of plastic bricks.

The party was a smashing success.  We ate entirely too many grilled burgers, too much cake and ice cream, and way too much fruit salad, because HOLY SMOKES!  The pineapple in it was exactly as God intended a pineapple to taste long ago, when He grew them Himself in the Garden of Eden.  It was very possibly the best pineapple of EVER.

Which means I ate enough fruit salad for six people.

Okay.

Nine people.

Whatever.

Thing 2 thoroughly enjoyed attending Gavin’s party, as he was passed around to everyone while his parents talked and talked and talked.

And then we came home, and Thing 2 passed out cold, because partying that hard will take it out of a little fellow.

On Sunday morning, we went to church.  Hubs and I also came to a big conclusion right there in the sanctuary, during Pastor Adam’s fantastic sermon.

Taking Thing 2 to church is like taking a twelve-pound squirrel to church.

There was Cousin H to our right, sitting very politely on her daddy’s knee.  Thing 2’s other BFF, six-month-old Lincoln, sat in front of us.  He was playing with toys quietly in his mama’s lap.  Then an unknown baby boy, who appeared to be nearing the six-month-old mark himself, sat to our left.  He was busy sleeping while his mother held him.

And then there was our family, at the back of the church, with the boy and the twelve-pound squirrel.  Thing 2 wanted to stand up… and sit down… and stand up some more… and bounce!  PLEASE!  LET’S BOUNCE!  And then he wanted to stand up… and then he shouted his enthusiasm about standing up in his outdoor voice.  And then he started giggling in his outdoor voice.  And then he shrieked because I COULD USE A DRINK OF MILK NOW!  WHERE’S THE MILK?  WHY ISN’T IT OUT ALREADY?  WHAT’S TAKING SO LONG?  And then he snorted and grunted and belched.

Hubs and I are beginning to think that Thing 2 isn’t ready for public places that require children to be QUIET yet.  I came home looking like I had been in combat.

On Sunday night, our friends, Brian and Sarah, came over for dinner with their three children.  Hubs and I were lamenting the fact that THING 2 DOES NOT NAP WELL, AND HE IS WEARING US OUT, and Brian and Sarah simply stared at us with very little sympathy.

You see, they had Grace.  And when Grace was a year-and-a-half old, they had their twins, Sam and Henry.  And Brian and Sarah said that they had no idea the human body could function with zero sleep for two full years, and that on the twins’ first birthday, they simply high-fived one another and declared, “WE SURVIVED THE FIRST YEAR!”

Grace is head over heels in love with Thing 2, and she spent some quality time snuggling him.  Sadly, when I snapped this picture, Thing 2 was more concerned with WHO IS BRINGING THE MILK TO THIS DINNER PARTY?! than with smiling as beautifully as Gracie did.

Today, Thing 2 got up at 5 AM.  He was ready to kick!  And stand!  And kick some more!  And laugh out loud!

Getting up at 5 AM makes the day very long.

My parents had a big taco bar dinner for Memorial Day.  Sister and her family came over, and look at Thing 2 and Cousin H.

Thing 2 is talking away, and Little H seems to be saying, “Who is this kid, and why is he so blasted loud?  Where are his manners?  Is this the same wild squirrel who disrupted church yesterday?”

Yes, H.  That is him.  We love him, even though he doesn’t act very much like a lady.

And then look!  Look who has learned to sit up after the boy gets her settled.

I could just pinch her, she’s so stinking cute!

The taco bar was a smashing success, because of BEST TACOS EVER!  It was exactly like being in Mexico, without the heat and the beach.  Thing 2 and Little H didn’t have tacos.  Their daddies spent some quality time giving them their lunches.

And really, H?  Let’s talk about YOUR MANNERS!  Do we flop around like that during dinner time?

And here’s the cutest little baby boy around these days:

The boy got him giggling, and we all laughed out loud at those belly giggles from that baby, because IT’S SO CUTE, MY HEART IS MELTING!!

And the grand finale photo is one of Cousin H.

Whose the cutest girl baby in America right now?  H, of course!

And that’s a wrap, people.  I’m putting this post to bed, and I’m heading that direction myself.  I expect that I’ll have a 2 AM wake-up call in an outdoor voice that says, “HEY, LADY!  WHERE’S THE MILK ALREADY?”

Happy Monday night, and don’t forget to thank someone from our military for what they have done for our country.

Dear Soldiers,

Thank you.  Thank you very much for enduring such hardships to make my life in America safe.

Love,

Mama

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