I always have good intentions of showing up here every night, but then we encounter things like SOCCER and SWIMMING and YOUTH GROUP and ADD 3 TABLESPOONS and BAKE AT 350, and there goes all the time. I guess some days there will just have to be large gaps and breaks between posts, because having two kids is a little busier than having just one used to be.
… I just want to say that if you talked to Jesus for us about getting our younger son to sleep through the night consistently, then THANK YOU. Our little man has now slept through the night for twenty-one straight nights. The relief is so great, I could sob big, happy tears. I can’t predict the future, so I don’t know if it’s going to last, but we’re riding the WELL RESTED train until the Conductor kicks us straight off, and everyone is in a much better mood. For instance, I no longer break down and bawl in the mornings, while I’m trying to manipulate a mascara wand at the sink as Hubs brushes his teeth, as I cry, “I’m just SO TIRED!”
I’m not going to lie; being well rested feels amazing.
We finished up Thing 2’s fall soccer league on Monday night, when he played his final game. His team managed to win, by a score of 8 to 4. Thing 2 scored for both teams on Monday. He tends to get a little GOAL HAPPY whenever he takes possession of the soccer ball, and often he just runs with it, straight for the nearest goal net, and WHO EVEN CARES WHICH TEAM THAT NET BELONGS TO?! But, since he turned right around and scored a goal for his team, too, he balanced himself out.
On Monday, though, he was frightfully distracted by the two airplanes and two helicopters that flew straight over the soccer fields. It’s so ridiculously hard for a five-year-old boy to focus on playing striker when the sky is full of all kinds of aircraft.
We even managed to catch a few glimpses of five-year-old Cousin H, who had a game on a neighboring field, while Thing 2 was playing. Interestingly enough, the airplanes and helicopters didn’t distract H at all. Now, running past a teenage girl on the sidelines who is rocking a fantastic messy bun WILL distract H’s attention from the game, as she contemplates how the girl managed to so artfully arrange that mane of hair, but helicopters are B-O-R-I-N-G.
And yesterday, Thing 2’s kindergarten class took a field trip to the local pumpkin patch. Naturally, I was working, because every field trip in the history of field trips always happens on a Tuesday or a Wednesday, which are my PE days. Thankfully, we have Hubs, who is always up for being the Dad Chaperone. He signed up to go with Thing 2’s class, and then texted me from the school, “I CAN DRIVE MY OWN CAR TO THE PUMPKIN PATCH! I DO NOT HAVE TO RIDE THE BUS WITH ALL THOSE LITTLE KIDS! THIS IS A GREAT DAY!”
He could have chosen a pumpkin that weighed twenty-five pounds. Instead, he brought home a little peanut of a pumpkin, and he could not possibly have been more proud of it. Before bedtime last night, he asked me, “Do you think I should rock my pumpkin to sleep? Do pumpkins even care about that sort of stuff?”
I’m sure he’ll deny ever asking this question when he’s eighteen and graduating from high school, but ask it, he did.
And… in other enormous news…
… I slayed a black widow spider on the outside of our front door yesterday afternoon that was the size of a fifty-cent piece, with her legs all spread out. I feel like the battle was perfectly orchestrated, as my hands shook when I held the giant can of KILLS ALL THE BUGS DEAD ON CONTACT spray, and held the nozzle down until at least a half gallon of liquid was dripping all over the place. That beast reared up on her back four legs and frantically waved her front legs at me. I’m fairly certain she was attempting to put a curse on me in her final moments of life…
… so I hosed her again with more poison.
When it was all said and done, I’m betting that I used three-fourths of that giant can of spray on one deadly spider. It took a a couple of minutes, of her staggering drunkenly around my front patio, but she eventually succumbed, curled up her eight legs, and flipped herself straight over, exposing her red hourglass to the heavens in death.
THAT was what I was after. My initial instinct was to stomp the tarnation out of her, but then… sometimes a body that has been stomped to death is impossible to identify, and I needed to see if there was an hourglass underneath. I needed to know if my house was being terrorized by a black widow. Hence… the spray.
And my fears were confirmed.
Which is why we are now moving. There’s no other option, as I can no longer live where black widows make their homes.
Y’all have a good weekend. Get outside and enjoy that fall weather.