*tap… tap… tap*
Is this thing on?
Um… Hi. My name is Mama, and I blogged here at one time. I hosted the staff Christmas parties, which… you know… were kind of small get-togethers, because I’m the only one who really ever worked here, unless you count my IT guy, who sometimes rolls his eyes back in his head before answering all of my technical questions about computers. His name is Hubs; I wash his laundry, and he makes sure I can always log into Jedi Mama, Inc.
The smack-middle of summer vacation kind of struck, and instead of us getting bored and whining about not having anything to do, and OH, MY GOSH! GO OUTSIDE ALREADY!, life got busier and busier, because… well… THIS happened:
(He really only complained minimally about waking up at 4:00 in the morning, because we treated him to a dinner of so many barbecued ribs and coleslaw, he had to waddle out of the restaurant like a penguin in gastrointestinal distress.)
He’s been camping on my family room floor in a sleeping bag and mess of clothes scattered everywhere ever since. Needless to say, the boy was STUNNED to discover his great friend hanging out at an airport, when we “just went to show Thing 2 some big planes” while we were in Bigger City “doing some school clothes shopping” (*wink, wink*). Truly, the boy had NO IDEA that the plane he watched land on the runway held some pretty spectacular cargo, in the form of his buddy and that flat-billed, backwards hat. There was a whole lot of rejoicing and grinning and major surprise when we managed to BUMP INTO Enzo at the airport, because Enzo flying out here (after having moved away an entire year ago now) was the boy’s biggest birthday gift.
And then we had a birthday, because the boy went and turned fifteen on us.
And then we had a little birthday party with some candles that we blew out.
And then I had a pack of boys sleeping on my family room floor, in the middle of even more sleeping bags and more clothes and more phones and more personal gaming devices.
And then we kept plowing along like a rocket on a mission with potty training, because I hear that’s what parents do to insure that pull-ups aren’t necessary in kindergarten.
In the thick of all of that, there were playdates for Thing 2, dinners with friends, and a night out with just the girls, where we TALKED and TALKED and also TALKED, because NO CHILDREN TO INTERRUPT US, Y’ALL! I had to haul the boy back and forth between this golf course and that golf course, for lessons and golfing with his buddies. I dropped the boy and Enzo and their pack of Small Town friends at the cinema for movies, and I picked them all up, and I’ve bought groceries, scrubbed toilets, washed and dried and folded clothes, cooked dinners, watered geraniums so they wouldn’t die in this sweltering heat, and managed to squeeze in that annual doctor’s exam, that just makes us proud to be females.
And now… well... Enzo is still going to be here for a while, which we LOVE (We may never actually put him on his return flight, because we’d love to keep him around forever.), and there are more golf dates planned and more movies planned, and I hope someone sort of picks up my family room, because it looks like a nuclear bomb exploded sleeping bags and power cords and Under Armour clothing and Nike sneakers and tubes of Axe deodorant all over the place right now.
… I’m hoping to reclaim my swivel chair here at the main desk of Jedi Mama, Incorporated (which is also the ONLY desk here at the blog headquarters), and get back to something of a normal schedule for posts.
Fingers crossed on that for good luck.
Y’all carry on, and have a happy Monday.