If you need to know what our weekend was like, let me give you a bit of a hint:
Last night, Thing 2 was sound asleep, in bed, at 6:30.
Hubs went to bed at 7:15.
I crawled into bed, to read, at 8:00.
My neighbor texted me at 8:30, and we ended up laughing, because she insisted that she’d never be able to get into bed SO EARLY. Apparently she is young and fun and vibrant in the evenings.
I’m just elderly by 8 PM; I don’t try to deny it. After I’ve had my dinner of soft Salisbury steak, with a nice, lemon-flavored, fish-shaped, Jell-O mold salad (with the fruit cocktail)… I like to sit for a spell on my sofa, with an afghan over my cold knees, catching up on Murder, She Wrote. And by 8:00, MaMaw likes to be in bed.
By 9:00 last night, I was out cold, too.
I went to my co-workers funeral on Saturday morning, where I managed to bawl my eyeballs plum out in a church that was packed to standing room only. I had taught with this man for the past twenty years, and he will be greatly missed at our little school, as he suddenly passed away, ten days earlier, of a heart attack. What was neat about his funeral, is that the kids came out in huge batches. Kids who went to our school two years ago. Kids who attended five years ago. Kids whose parents paid their tuition for them to be there ten years ago. Kids came who were there twenty years ago.
Many of these kids are so grown up now, they have beards and babies and mortgages; they talk about teething infants and insurance premiums and wine in a box these days.
And let me tell you… I talked and talked and talked to all of these kids that I haven’t seen for years and years. They live in nearby states… and faraway states. One came from Thailand for the funeral, where he’s currently working. It was so incredibly good to see them all again, but I wish the circumstances would have been different.
We all did.
I hugged so many necks, I was overwhelmed.
And because we realized on Saturday exactly how short time can be… and that we are never guaranteed a tomorrow here on earth… we told one another how much we meant to each other. Kids told me, over and over, how much they loved being in my PE classes when they were little; I told them, in turn, how much I had adored them back then, and how beautifully they’ve grown up.
I cried a lot on Saturday.
And then I came home with a raging, massive migraine that took me out, because my head could only handle so many tears that day. I grabbed a blanket and laid like a slug on my bed, as the Excedrin Migraine streamed into my veins.
On Saturday night, Thing 2 was up ALL. NIGHT. LONG. We welcomed in Ear Infection #824.
By Sunday morning, I looked like I lived in a dumpster, and Thing 2 looked like an unattended child, with dried snot all over his nose.
The mother never cleans up the nose of the second child like she did with the firstborn.
Later, after we were hopped up on Motrin and completely immune to pain… after we had showered and cleaned our boogers off… we went to little Cousin H’s 4th birthday party, because WHAT? SHE’S FOUR ALREADY?!
It seemed impossible, but the little darling arrived in our lives four entire years ago already.
The whole gang of preschoolers showed up to help her celebrate, too, because they heard there was free ice cream cake and fruit punch to party goers. The preschool crowd never turns down a chance for free cake.
Thing 2 showed everyone how to play Ring Around the Rosie, because he had just learned to play it in preschool. If you’ve never seen the three- and four-year-old crowd holler out, “Ashes, ashes, we all fall down,” as they collapse in a heap of laughter, then you’re not really living. It was adorable.
When it was time for that free ice cream cake, we had to actually PHYSICALLY RESTRAIN Thing 2 from getting too close to it, because he was flat-out determined that HE was gonna blow that candle out when the song finished.
When I took Thing 2 shopping for H, I showed him an Elsa Barbie doll, and asked him if he thought she would like it. He screamed right there in the store, “No! No way! H hates Elsa, Mom! She hates Elsa Barbies!” I asked him what he thought she would like then, and he said, “H likes monster trucks and tractors and Ninja Turtles. Let’s go look at those things! That’s a good idea!”
Little H got the Elsa Barbie, and let me tell you this: I think she was powerfully happy to have it, and thrilled beyond measure that it WAS NOT the Grave Digger Monster Truck. I have my suspicions that Thing 2 was really trying to get himself the gift of a new monster truck at the store this weekend.
An hour later, his temperature was 102 with that ear infection.
Hubs and I gave him another shot glass full of Motrin; he slammed it back, and he was sound asleep at 6:30.
And yes. After eight hundred and twenty-four more ear infections, we saw our Ear, Nose and Throat doctor first thing this morning.
We’re on the fast track to getting tubes in our ears this week. It’s gonna happen.
Tonight, we had a family dinner for Little H, because today is her REAL birthday. She is officially a four-year-old. She even told Thing 2, “I’m four today; I’m a lot older than you are.”
H asked for a homemade meatloaf and mashed potatoes for dinner, so that’s what Sister whipped up. Thing 2 was heartbroken that we were traveling across town for A STINKING MEATLOAF, because he wouldn’t touch one of those with a twenty-nine-and-a-half-foot pole.
I did make all the cousins sit together for a quick snapshot.
And that, people, brings us smack up until now.
It’s 8 pm on Monday night, and I’ve got a little guy who is ready for his next Motrin dose and some time in the rocking chair with his Mama, before he falls asleep here.
Y’all have a merry Monday.