If I Had A Great Title, I Would Write It Here

So if all the wording in this post sounds a bit worse than usual tonight, I’ll just tell y’all right now:  Thing 2 woke up at 4:40 this morning.

Yes, I know that there are real, live people who actually ENJOY getting up that early.  By 5:00 in the morning, my parents have already showered and had coffee and been to Walmart and back.  Hubs’ parents have already fried eggs and shoveled snow.  My ranching friend, Bridget, has already hauled hay out to the cows and fed the lambs.

Good for them.

By 5:00 in the morning, I have done nothing except sleep.

This morning, when Thing 2 rather loudly announced that he’d like someone to come free him from the confinement of his crib, I did.  And then I said, “You have two choices, Mister:  A, you can go back to sleep.  Or B, you can go back to sleep.”

Thing 2 giggled and said, “I choose C… None of the above.”

I giggled a fake giggle that’s usually reserved for mad people in asylums, and I said, “Then I choose D.  I’m calling the gypsies right now, and I’m trading them a twenty-two pound monkey for some fancy, glass trinkets.”

Thing 2 said he’d reconsider all the sleeping.

And then he whispered, “I think I’m going with option E.  I’ll just lay here and stare at you while you rock me.  I’ll stare like a plastic owl decoy that sits on a barn roof.  I will not blink.  Look at me!!  I’M NOT BLINKING, MA!”

I told Thing 2, “Fine.  I’m getting my jacket, and we’re going to drive out to the field where the gypsies have corralled their wagons for the night.”  And then I told Thing 2 that sometimes gypsies put little monkeys in cages and strap them to the backs of their wagons with bungee chords.

Thing 2 closed his eyes.

And then he pinched me.

Thing 2, you see, has learned to pinch.  He doesn’t pinch in anger or madness… at least not yet.  He is simply fascinated that he can use his index finger and his thumb and make a pinching motion.  When he pinched me at ten minutes to five this morning, I thought my hair was going to curl with all the Nerve Shock!  He nearly dropped me.  I began humming a gypsy tune to him.  He pinched me again.  That time, I curled into the fetal position and peed down my leg, because THE NERVES!  THE NERVES!  HE HIT THE NERVES!  I felt like I’d been zapped with a Taser.

At 4:55, Thing 2 was back in his crib.  I had nerve damage in my arm, and I could no longer hold him or brush my teeth unassisted.

Thing 2 sat in his crib and chattered on and on to himself until 6:00, when he FINALLY fell back asleep.

I have been awake since 4:40, because OF COURSE I HAVE!  I have the meat issues, and the bones-in-my-meat issues, and THE SLEEP ISSUES.

And that, in just 450 words, is why I might tend to ramble incoherently tonight.

(Which, I imagine, isn’t really all that different from most every other night.)

Our weekend was a good one, people.

There was no school in Small Town, USA on Friday, so the boy had Enzo over on Thursday night.  Hubs and I made them big, Polish sausages for dinner, and we turned them loose in the family room.  Those two 6th graders laughed like hyenas at a stand-up comedy night in a local bar.  They laughed and they laughed.  They laughed so hard, that soon Hubs and I were laughing in the next room, because their hilarity was contagious.  I finally gave in and yelled, “What’s so blasted funny down there?”

Enzo yelled back, “My video game character just got punched in the face by A GIRL character, and she knocked me down flat!  I was taken out BY A GIRL AND HER FIST!!!”  And then there was more hysterical laughing, until someone shot a 7-Up out of his nose.

On Friday, what with there being no school and all, I answered my phone to my little 4th grade friend’s voice.  Miss Kiley said, “Hi.  Would you like to come over and play beauty parlor with me?  I could do your hair!”

Sold.  I booked an appointment at the prestigious salon for 1:00 that afternoon.

Kiley and her two sisters are very dear to my heart; I love them huge.  I hauled both of my boys with me.  The girls took turns doing my hair in all sorts of braids and buns and twists and ponytails.  Whichever two weren’t working as my personal stylist at the moment entertained Thing 2.

Kiley’s older sister, McKinley, introduced the boy to The Cosby Show.  I’m sad to say that Hubs and I have never thought to show that one to him.  McKinley had all of the seasons on DVD, and she announced, “When my parents first suggested that we watch this show on Netflix, I was all, ‘Oh, no!  It’s gonna be AWFUL, because it’s OLD!’  And then it turned out to be my favorite show of ever.”

I wanted to fire her from the salon when she declared that the show was old.  The ’80s were not that long ago, Girl, and they were pure awesome.

It was so refreshing being with GIRLS for a change.  There was no talk of burps or people with gas or bombs or shotguns or Legos or rubber band guns or Mine Craft or Sasquatch or how many marshmallows can be stuffed into the human mouth at one time.  Every now and then, a mama just needs to hang out with little ladies for an afternoon of hair-doing!

Thing 2 enjoyed all the toys the girls offered him to play with.

Kiley spun him around and around, one thousand times, until I wanted to ask her if she didn’t happen to have some Dramamine somewhere, so that my head would quit all the spinning that was brought on by JUST WATCHING the duo.  Thing 2 laughed and laughed, even though this snapshot makes him look like he has taken one-too-many doses of Benadryl.

Thing 2 thought that spinning with Kiley was better than any amusement park ride ever.

And then Avery begged to be the bottle-giver when Thing 2 declared that some warm milk might hit the spot nicely.

Just look at those freckles and that grin and those MISSING FRONT TEETH!  I could smooch Avery a thousand times, she’s so darling.

Also?  I’m pretty sure that Thing 2 weighs more than Avery does, even though Avery is in kindergarten!

The girls also fed Thing 2 cookies.  Oh, they fed the boy cookies, too, but Thing 2 enjoyed them more.  He hummed his appreciation and drooled all over the place, while he used his little teeth to chomp them right up.

And then, with my hair looking like a kindergartner had just styled it, the boy and Thing 2 and I loaded back up into our Suburban.  We went to the private school where I teach PE, because the boy’s buddy, Ben, was up from Small Ranching Community, to play in a basketball game against my school’s team.

I had to cheer for the boys from my school… AND BEN.

The game was enormously loud, with cheering and whistling and buzzers and hollering and stomping and clapping… and Thing 2 fell asleep.  The three girls had plum worn him out that afternoon!  We sat with Ben’s parents and his grandparents, and we had a marvelous time chatting.

And I should note that Ben made TWO baskets on Friday afternoon.  We clapped like mad people for him.  And I also clapped for the boys on the other team, because I’ve had every single one of them in PE, and I adore them.

On Friday night (Really?  We’re STILL talking about Friday?!), Hubs and I had a genuine date.  Mam and Pa took our boys for the night, and Hubs and I went to a posh little restaurant in town.  One of his co-workers was turning 40, and there was a giant surprise party for him.

(And 40?  Some people are incredibly old.  I remember when people who were 40 were called THE PARENTS OF MY FRIENDS.)

I ordered shrimp, and it was divine.  We sat with our friends, Ryan and Sarah, and talked and talked and talked some more.  I also had four entire glasses of iced tea, which was not a good choice so late in the evening.

When dinner was done, Hubs and I came home, because there were no good movies playing at the cinema.  We had no children… NO CHILDREN FOR AN ENTIRE NIGHT… and the movies playing in Small Town, USA were not enticing.  Anything that says, “This movie is rated R for strong sequences of intense, graphic war violence and torture scenes,” is flat-out NOT FOR ME.

And, with NO CHILDREN WHATSOEVER, when you’d think a girl could get a good night’s sleep… I didn’t sleep at all.

I had to unload the iced tea about six different times.

And then I was too hot.  So I kicked all the covers off.

And then I was too cold.  So I covered back up.

And then the cat stepped on my neck.

And then I turned the ceiling fan on.

And then Hubs said, “Oh, my gosh!  I’m freezing with that fan on!”

And then I just went out to the sofa, thinking a change of scenery might encourage ALL THE SLEEPING to actually happen.

It didn’t.

On Saturday, I was very tired, and there was laundry.

And then the Colorado Avalanche played hockey at 7:00 PM.  They lost, and Hubs didn’t even care, because HOCKEY IS BACK ON!  He smiled all evening.  He came upstairs during a commercial and shouted, “I LOVE HOCKEY!!!”

Twice!  He did that two times, people.

His ice skaters have helped him recover from the traumatic Bronco loss last weekend.

Today, we went to church.  I might have mentioned that I’ve been awake since 4:40.  We also braved Walmart on the weekend, because we are a special kind of crazy, and because I was out of Tide and fabric softener, due to Saturday’s constant use of the washing machine.

And that, people, was our weekend.

It’s going to be an early night tonight, because 4:40!  I HAVE BEEN AWAKE SINCE 4:40!

Y’all have a good Sunday night.

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