Happy Monday

Do you know how CLEAN my house would be without these two?


No pee on the floor around the toilets.  No Fruity Pebbles dried and cemented to the sides of the kitchen sink.   No Lego minefields, waiting for unsuspecting adults to step on them.  No dirty dishes hiding out in a bedroom.  No dirty clothes hiding everywhere, from beneath beds to beneath the sofa in the living room.  No empty boxes in the pantry.  No empty milk jugs in the refrigerator.


And it would probably be a very BORING house, because these two add a lot of excitement to things.  I kind of like them, even though they both headed to school this morning and left me with a long list of chores that needed to be done.  I only whined and complained for a little while that I wasn’t Carol Brady and that I didn’t have an Alice whipping through my bright orange kitchen with a feather duster, a laundry basket, and something to shove into the oven for supper.


Our weekend is over, as tends to be the case when it’s Monday.

On Thursday — Yes!  Clear back on Thursday! — Thing 2 had an appointment to get his curls cut off.  I do love the curls, but we constantly deal with sand and grit and dried leaves and leftover green beans and small woodland creatures in that small boy’s hair every evening, so it was just time to buzz it all off and make life easier.

And by easier, I mean we were going to get rid of that part in our days, where it’s bedtime and I tell Thing 2, “Go out on the deck and bend your head down, so that we can shake the stuff out of your hair.”

I took the boys out to take a few snapshots of them, just to commemorate that time we actually GREW THE CURLS OUT, and because the boy is looking so grownup these days, my heart can hardly take it.

img_2424 img_2450 img_2523blogAfter a few snapshots, I took Thing 2 down to the salon, so that he could sit in our beloved hair stylist’s twirly chair.  He was excited, because Lisa always gives him a sucker while she trims him up.

And that’s when I realized that I was going to need a paper bag to breathe in and out of, because I COULDN’T PART WITH THE CURLS!  I just couldn’t.  I told Lisa, “Listen.  I’m not emotionally prepared to do this today.  I have to go.  I can’t cut the curls off.”

Thing 2 burst into tears, as he yelled, “But I wanted a sucker!!”

Lisa gave him a sucker, and then she admitted to me, “Those curls are so cute, I would’ve had a hard time actually cutting them today!”

So we came home.  I’m fairly certain Thing 2 wondered if everyone his age had a crazy mother, or whether it was just him.

On Friday night, Hubs and I met two other couples who are good friends of ours at a posh little hot spot in the heart of the city, right in the middle of a rainstorm.  Our dinner was incredibly delicious, and I ordered the key lime martini.  What you need to know about the key lime martini at this place is that it tastes like a smooth dessert in a glass.  At the bottom of the glass, I could probably find enough courage to stand up on our dinner table and sing something for the other restaurant guests.

It’s why I always drink exactly HALF of the key lime martini when I order it, which is really getting my money’s worth out of that pricey little beverage.  I’m too afraid to wake up the next morning and see all over Facebook that I belted out the lyrics to old John Denver tunes, while I used a spoon for a microphone.

We laughed our heads off at dinner and had absolutely THE VERY BEST TIME.  We were having so much fun, in fact, that Hubs and I actually stayed out until the very UNHOLY HOUR of 8 PM.

I know… I know.  It was exactly like we had channeled our inner college selves and decided to party like it was 1999.

On Saturday, it poured buckets and buckets of rain.

Literally, BUCKETS.  I don’t think that it ever quit raining on Saturday.  The sky was dark, the house was freezing cold, and it was the perfect time to sleep in.

Thing 2 got up at 5:20 Saturday morning.  Bless him.  There weren’t enough convincing words in the English language to get him to go back to sleep, so we were up, watching The Good Dinosaur together on the TV, while I sipped a cup of hot coffee and pretended that it was really 9:00 in the morning, and that I wasn’t envious of Hubs and the boy, who were sleeping in.

And then, the weekend became beautiful, because Hubs got up and let me go back to bed at 7:30.  I pounced on that chance like a homeless rat who has just discovered a half-eaten bag of pretzels.  I blacked out.  I slept the sleep of anesthesia-induced surgeries.  I buried myself deep into the blankets in that rain-darkened bedroom, and the very next thing I knew…

… it was 10:10 in the morning.

I guess if you’re going to party like a college kid and stay out until 8 PM, you’re going to need to sleep half the day away to recover.

The rest of our Saturday involved lying on the sofa, while the rain came down outside and the thunder clashed.  I only managed to see The Good Dinosaur three more times on Saturday, even though I was hoping to get a fourth viewing in.

By dinner time, it was apparent that my peeps were hungry, as they began to roam the house, wondering what was going to magically come out of the oven, all hot and tasty on such a cold, drizzly day.

I guess they forgot who they were dealing with.

We have a DRIVING CHILD now, which means I gave him some dollar bills, and he drove himself to Taco Bell, where he ordered a giant box of hard-shell tacos for his family’s dinner.

The driving teenager is a luxury, I’m telling you.

On Sunday, the clouds broke up.  We had brilliantly-gorgeous sunshine for church.

Afterward, I threw all the laundry-doing and the grocery-fetching under the bus.  I recruited Hubs and the boy to HELP CLEAN THE BATHROOMS!  JUST THE BATHROOMS, GUYS!  PLEASE!  LET THIS BE THE DAY WE GET RID OF THE MOLD IN OUR TOILET BOWLS, AS WE HEAR THE ANGELS REJOICE.

We cleaned the two bathrooms, from top to bottom.

And then, my mom and I took Thing 2 to a couple of different parks to play on that gorgeous fall afternoon.  Hubs got to stay home and watch an uninterrupted Broncos football game, while the boy got to stay home and do homework.

Sometimes life isn’t fair when you’re sixteen.

As far as the lost tooth from yesterday goes, Thing 2 woke up this morning, wondering if the Tooth Fairy had visited him overnight.  His bedroom was VERY DARK, as tends to happen when you wake up at a time that’s still considered by the sane world to be THE MIDDLE OF THE STINKING NIGHT.  Because he’s rather brilliant, the kid grabbed his light-up cowboy boots.  He smacked one boot as hard as he could against the floor, causing the blue lights to pop on and blink for a few seconds.  And… using his COWBOY BOOT AS A FLASHLIGHT… Thing 2 searched his bed and came up a winner!  The Tooth Fairy had left him a miniature car wash that was just big enough to hold one Matchbox car.  He threw the make-shift cowboy-boot-flashlight aside and hollered, “I LOVE THE TOOTH FAIRY!!!!”

Apparently, Matchbox cars trump money in his world.  Matchbox cars definitely trump the price of an MRI, to find the exact location of the coins he would’ve put into his mouth and swallowed, too.  Those are the drawbacks of preschoolers losing teeth!

And THAT, folks, was our weekend.

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