Parties and Races And LOOK! My Suburban Stops Now!

I’ve been sitting here at my desk, right smack in front of my computer for so long, my back is stiff. And my legs are sore. And my caboose is numb. It’s most likely due to the small fact that I just have a regular old dining room chair here, instead of one of those fancy-type swivel chairs that have nine layers of thick pillowing covered in Chevron fabric, and that’s recommended by 9 out of 10 chiropractors.

We’re just hardcore fancy around here.

I’ve been TRYING to get my blog post done, but then PINTEREST, DANG IT! That’s due to the small fact that I need to make a grocery list, because our VERY CLEAN refrigerator is nearly empty, and do you know what I DON’T want to buy at the store this week? That would be all the ingredients for the six meals we rotate through at our house. I need something NEW and EXCITING and DELICIOUS for dinner ideas, that won’t be thrown on the floor by a delinquent toddler or require me to waste an hour of prep time in my kitchen, dicing vegetables.

If you have suggestions, feel free to hit me with them.

So my Suburban’s brakes have been squealing like a happy piglet on his birthday for quite a while now. Since brakes are actually something that people like to have on their vehicles, Hubs took it upon himself to replace mine. And then he took it upon himself to show me the difference between MY brake pads and the BRAND NEW brake pads. Rest assured, I now know the culprit for those old movies, where the semi truck’s brakes go out, and the trucker (usually played by Burt Reynolds or Clint Eastwood) spends the next forty-five minutes of screen time negotiating mountainous curves and successfully NOT hitting the little, blue-haired lady in the antique Oldsmobile by six-tenths of an inch.

You no longer need to worry about my Suburban coming up behind you at a stop sign, y’all.

Look who helped Hubs with the dirty work:

After his stint as a mechanic was finished, the boy came inside the house and told me, “Well, I feel kind of manly, since I just fixed my own vehicle.”

And then, the following morning, we had the very last day of the 7th grade.

People, how is that even possible?

This was the boy on THE FIRST DAY of the 7th grade, which was clear back in August:

And then this is the boy on THE LAST DAY of the 7th grade, which was clear back, three days ago:

Somehow, my little boy was replaced by a half-grown man-child in the past nine months.

He pulled all A’s AND he fixes brakes.

Clearly, ladies, he’s a catch.

When school was out, the boy’s buddy, Quinn, hosted his annual WELCOME TO SUMMER VACATION party. I slaved over a hot deli here in town and took fried chicken, which the young teenagers devoured in less than ninety seconds.

Also?

Well, I had my camera during the entire party. There were approximately eighty (Yes! Eighty!!) kids running hither and yon and here and there, and I pretty much just sipped a cold Lime-a-Rita and talked and talked and TALKED to other mamas. That translates into, “For the first time in longer than I can remember, I failed to take more than ten pictures at a major event.”

I know. I’m just as shocked as y’all are!

There was some football happening at the festival.

There were cute kiddos at the party.

There were goofy kiddos at the party, too, who hammed it up for the camera, because THAT is what boys do.

“Here! Your mama is taking our picture. Let me pretend I’m yanking your head off your shoulders!”

Do girls do this sort of thing? Somehow… I doubt it.

And THAT, people, is the extent of the snapshots I popped off at the WELCOME TO SUMMER VACATION PARTY.

Eighty fun kids. A couple of dozen great parents. Lots of laughing. Lots of running. Lots of hysterical hilarity.

And hardly any of it was recorded on my digital memory card, because I was too busy talking and enjoying a Lime-a-Rita. It’s like I hardly know myself any more.

HOWEVER!

People, I redeemed myself with the camera on Saturday morning, when the boy and Enzo laid down some cold, hard cash and signed themselves up for a Color Splash obstacle course race!

I’ve seen these races on the World Wide Web several times, with folks posting pictures of themselves looking like rainbows when the races are finished. It’s hard NOT to look like a bag of Skittles candy, when everyone on the sidelines is throwing brightly-colored powder at you while you run by.

Saturday’s race was more of a FUN race, rather than a BRING HOME THE VICTORY, EVEN IF YOUR NOSE BLEEDS AND YOU RIP LIGAMENTS sort of race. The money went to a local church in town, who is currently raising money, so that their youth group can go on a missions trip to Nicaragua.

The boy and Enzo got up at the crack of ARE YOU KIDDING ME?, even though it was technically their first day of summer vacation, and they had NOT gotten to bed at a decent hour the night before. I believe I hollered down our basement stairs exactly fourteen times, trying to get them to crawl out of their sleeping bags so we could be at the starting line on time.

And, boy! Were they glad they made it, because this obstacle course turned out to be one of the highlights of their year so far!

The boy and Enzo wore their white clothes. Obviously, these are the BEFORE pictures.

And then they met up with a team of GIRLS that they’ve known for a sweet forever (Like… since kindergarten!), and OF COURSE I told them, “Kodak moment, y’all! Squeeze together!”

Thing 2 was powerfully impressed with the sideline decoration, and he may have (Ahem!) stolen one.

Or nine.

Mother’s do not have to testify in court about their sons’ thievery.

Thing 2 also put the boy through some pre-race running drills to loosen him up a bit. I’m pretty sure the toddler was busy counting cadences for his older brother.

And then the UNTHINKABLE happened.

The race was ready to begin, and Hubs (Gasp!!) made Thing 2 sit down on the sidelines to watch. Our baby was HORRIFIED and also STUNNED that he wasn’t going to be IN the race himself.

“What do you mean I’m not actually IN this race? I trained Rocky Balboa over there! I trained him! Mickey wants to race, too!”

The girls took off first, because… well… this race was a fundraiser for a church, so LET THE GIRLS GO FIRST was a very good motto to have.

(Naturally, though, RUN LIKE KENTUCKY DERBY WINNERS! AND LIE, CHEAT AND STEAL, IF IT COMES TO THAT! DO WHATEVER IT TAKES TO BEAT THOSE GIRLS IN THIS THING! was the second motto of the race on Saturday.)

The kids went through the obstacle course six different times, which was the equivalent of running from Hawaii to Ohio.