Well, this has been a busy week. My oldest baby turned eight yesterday, and I have already proclaimed my disbelief. She wanted breakfast for her birthday "dinner", and pumpkin pie rather than a cake. Sunday, we had her party, and yesterday we had the immediate family dinner. I made apple crisp, too, just because the smell and thought of pumpkin pie was so intoxicating that I had to elaborate on its fall-ness.
G was in Boston for three days, so I was here with the kids. Okay, two and a half days, but in such instances you always round up. But you know...three days of dealing with them, baths, meals, and running around. It takes its toll. I know I really have no cause to complain, because there are plenty of single moms who would love to have a little bit of help, but I am just feeling left behind. And tonight? Yeah, he's playing volleyball with his friends. His younger friends. You know, the ones without spouses and kids. He needs to get with some family men, because I'm tired of drinking wine by myself every night.
Tomorrow we may or may not have house guests, which my mother-in-law has invited to stay at my house. Yes, you read that right. She invited them. Man, I love her. First she invited herself, her brother, and her best friend...now she's not coming, but has assured the other two that we won't mind if they still come. We have not heard from them, so I'm not sure whether they'll still come or not. She has always used our home as a hotel for whenever she's in the area. And, now that we have three kids, there is no more guest room. There is a bed in the basement, and the couch...and the basement is a disaster of toys, computer stuff, and my sewing stuff. I'm really not in the mood for a stash & dash cleaning session. Nor am I in the mood to have a perfect stranger stay in my already busy home. Do y'all have a MIL like mine?
This weekend is the last RenFest already. Just seems impossible, what with all this warm weather we're still having. It's supposed to be downright chilly by now...the bees are supposed to be gone, and you're supposed to drink mead in order to help stay warm. Oh well, I'm going anyway. Can't believe I haven't been yet this year, but that's par for the course. G is sad that I'm going to miss his volleyball double-header. Gee, which would you pick?
Happy weekend!
Showing posts with label birthday. Show all posts
Showing posts with label birthday. Show all posts
Friday, October 19, 2007
Saturday, October 6, 2007
Nothing New
I went to the gym again today...it's only my second time ever. We got kicked out (you know, because they were closing). It's kind of a good feeling to get kicked out of a gym. On the other hand, they were closing because they close early on Saturdays. You know, because most people have a life, unlike me.
G and the rest of the fam are in West Virginia, at Ralph's house, so it's strangely quiet here. I'm sipping my last glass of sangria, debating about going to get some more. Why can't they have delivery liquors? I guess that would be a bad idea.
So, my baby girl is about to turn eight. I know it sounds cliche, but I swear to you that I don't know where the time has gone. I cannot get my brain around the fact that she has been here for eight years...and that I'm eight years older than I was when I had her. When I consider how much I have changed since then, how my life has changed...it's just astounding. We are having a party for her next weekend, so I will be busy, busy this week. I remember being her age-birthday parties were so important. She really wants a hamster, but her father has forbid it (since, well, her room looks like a place that the county would likely condemn). Her frog recently died, too, so that makes me really want to get her the hamster...but you know, that would just be one more thing for me to take care of. Not to mention that it would cause strife between me and G. And can you imagine the two boys letting it out, giving it a haircut, or feeding it M&Ms? Yeah...
Oh yeah, and they're cutting our peaktime hours at work. I'll lose 4 hours per pay period. You know, that doesn't really hurt my feelings, because I'm pretty tired of working there. It used to be a great place to work, but my branch is subject to ridiculous politics these days. On the other hand, I guess I will miss the money. Especially since Comcast is not going to take over Millennium, and therefore I will get no free cable. SIGH. The price of everything is going up, but my salary is going down. I know, I know...I sound really old. It's because I am.
Happy fall...who's in on a Halloween fire?
G and the rest of the fam are in West Virginia, at Ralph's house, so it's strangely quiet here. I'm sipping my last glass of sangria, debating about going to get some more. Why can't they have delivery liquors? I guess that would be a bad idea.
So, my baby girl is about to turn eight. I know it sounds cliche, but I swear to you that I don't know where the time has gone. I cannot get my brain around the fact that she has been here for eight years...and that I'm eight years older than I was when I had her. When I consider how much I have changed since then, how my life has changed...it's just astounding. We are having a party for her next weekend, so I will be busy, busy this week. I remember being her age-birthday parties were so important. She really wants a hamster, but her father has forbid it (since, well, her room looks like a place that the county would likely condemn). Her frog recently died, too, so that makes me really want to get her the hamster...but you know, that would just be one more thing for me to take care of. Not to mention that it would cause strife between me and G. And can you imagine the two boys letting it out, giving it a haircut, or feeding it M&Ms? Yeah...
Oh yeah, and they're cutting our peaktime hours at work. I'll lose 4 hours per pay period. You know, that doesn't really hurt my feelings, because I'm pretty tired of working there. It used to be a great place to work, but my branch is subject to ridiculous politics these days. On the other hand, I guess I will miss the money. Especially since Comcast is not going to take over Millennium, and therefore I will get no free cable. SIGH. The price of everything is going up, but my salary is going down. I know, I know...I sound really old. It's because I am.
Happy fall...who's in on a Halloween fire?
Monday, September 10, 2007
Come On In, the Water's Fine
September 10, 2007
This weekend flew by, and my middle son turned four. Seems so silly to say, but it seems like he was just born. I honestly can't get my brain around how fast my life is flying by. And it's already football season (does anyone else hate the female announcers?!). The angle of the sun has changed, the crickets have returned, and the temperature is slowly getting cooler (ok, not today). I can't believe it's almost fall. But you know what that means...it's almost fire season. I even shopped for a new fire bowl today.
Anyway, the party was fun, but hectic. Seems like I really never get time to sit and have a few drinks, enjoy myself and my company. There is always something else to think about. The highlight of the day, of course, was when we gave G a dip in the pool...against his will, and fully clothed. To me, it was a personal vendetta, after his failure to return home from a bachelor party in a timely fashion (and he drove his motorcycle after drinking, the ass). We were laughing so hard, we could hardly function. I will give him this: he is a strong, squirmy somebody. He definitely did not go down without a fight, and it took several of us. I'll have to check my camera, and the cameras of those around me...you might see the video up on Youtube soon. It reminded me of the time on our youth group ski trip (a la 1989) when a bunch of guys tried to wrestle G into a hotel bath tub full of ice water. That was hysterical, too.
Today I spent quite a while at Patapsco, walking with the boys. It was completely silent there...even the river was quiet, since it is so low. I've never seen the dam so low, either. It was peaceful--exactly what I needed after a busy weekend. I saw two deer, a heron, and a groundhog. I was also pleased to not see any dead fish in the river. It was a good day.
I hope you all have a good week.
This weekend flew by, and my middle son turned four. Seems so silly to say, but it seems like he was just born. I honestly can't get my brain around how fast my life is flying by. And it's already football season (does anyone else hate the female announcers?!). The angle of the sun has changed, the crickets have returned, and the temperature is slowly getting cooler (ok, not today). I can't believe it's almost fall. But you know what that means...it's almost fire season. I even shopped for a new fire bowl today.
Anyway, the party was fun, but hectic. Seems like I really never get time to sit and have a few drinks, enjoy myself and my company. There is always something else to think about. The highlight of the day, of course, was when we gave G a dip in the pool...against his will, and fully clothed. To me, it was a personal vendetta, after his failure to return home from a bachelor party in a timely fashion (and he drove his motorcycle after drinking, the ass). We were laughing so hard, we could hardly function. I will give him this: he is a strong, squirmy somebody. He definitely did not go down without a fight, and it took several of us. I'll have to check my camera, and the cameras of those around me...you might see the video up on Youtube soon. It reminded me of the time on our youth group ski trip (a la 1989) when a bunch of guys tried to wrestle G into a hotel bath tub full of ice water. That was hysterical, too.
Today I spent quite a while at Patapsco, walking with the boys. It was completely silent there...even the river was quiet, since it is so low. I've never seen the dam so low, either. It was peaceful--exactly what I needed after a busy weekend. I saw two deer, a heron, and a groundhog. I was also pleased to not see any dead fish in the river. It was a good day.
I hope you all have a good week.
Wednesday, September 5, 2007
Breakfast With Little People
September 5, 2007
This morning, I took the boys to Chick-fil-a for breakfast, because, you know, they have the fabulous chicken biscuit. Only I was retarded. I asked for a number 4. Then I realized that was on a bagel, and would probably be too much food for me. I asked to change it to a number 5. I thought I was getting a chicken biscuit with egg and cheese. Only I ordered the wrong sandwich and there was no chicken, so I was very disappointed. We sat down next to a father with his toddler boy and baby girl, who immediately refused to eat and spent the next half hour turned around in their seats, waving at my boys and saying hi. I felt kinda guilty at having compromised their nice meal. He was a big man, with a buzzed head and a great fat belly. The back of his neck, as my sister always says, looked like a pack of hot dogs. I couldn't stop staring at it, thanking the sweet Lord that while I might be fat, at least I don't have back-of-the-neck fat.
Halfway through our meal, as usual, Collin loudly said, "OK, I have to go POO POO real BAD!" I told him he would have to wait until Booah was done with his breakfast--I was worried that if we left all our food on the table, it would be cleaned up for us. And of course, I couldn't very well leave Noah there to eat by himself. Collin proceeded to squirm and complain and demand that Noah hurry up. In an even louder voice, and much to the amusement of Hot Dog Neck and the men seated next to us, he said, "MAMA, MAYBE THE POO POO WILL GO BACK UP IN MY HOLE!" I nearly spit my coffee all over the table, and then if it wasn't so funny, I probably would have hid under it with embarrassment.
He made it to the bathroom in time. Then we went to the play area, and Booah promptly pooped in his diaper. We cut the playtime short and went to the truck to change him...no diaper bag. We went across the street to the Target and bought diapers and wipes, cause it's not like they won't get used. Then we proceeded to look for the ever-elusive Lightning McQueen bike for Collin's birthday. I gave up and ordered it online, and had to spend an ungoldy amount of money to have it shipped 2nd day air. And then there was the Lightning McQueen helmet & knee pad set, and it actually cost more to ship it 2nd day than the set itself. Needless to say, I'm not waiting as long to buy Cameron's birthday gift.
After we came home, Booah pooped three more times. And I forgot to mention that he pooped once when he first got up. And he pooped once this evening. Sooner or later, you start to take it personally. It's like he's just doing it to get a rise out of us. Add Collin, and poop takes up a significant portion of the day. At least Cam poops by herself now. But you know, I wouldn't have it any other way. I am very grateful for my children, especially since I've just learned of this family in Pasadena whose daughter Kamryn just died of leukemia. She was only 8, like my daughter. She had red hair, like my daughter. She danced, like my daughter. It just makes me extra-grateful for these little people I have running around, pooping and screaming, making messes and fighting. Because I can still kiss them goodnight. I can still hold them when they get a skinned knee. I don't have to say goodbye, and learn how to live without them. Yep, I'm pretty thankful for poop.
This morning, I took the boys to Chick-fil-a for breakfast, because, you know, they have the fabulous chicken biscuit. Only I was retarded. I asked for a number 4. Then I realized that was on a bagel, and would probably be too much food for me. I asked to change it to a number 5. I thought I was getting a chicken biscuit with egg and cheese. Only I ordered the wrong sandwich and there was no chicken, so I was very disappointed. We sat down next to a father with his toddler boy and baby girl, who immediately refused to eat and spent the next half hour turned around in their seats, waving at my boys and saying hi. I felt kinda guilty at having compromised their nice meal. He was a big man, with a buzzed head and a great fat belly. The back of his neck, as my sister always says, looked like a pack of hot dogs. I couldn't stop staring at it, thanking the sweet Lord that while I might be fat, at least I don't have back-of-the-neck fat.
Halfway through our meal, as usual, Collin loudly said, "OK, I have to go POO POO real BAD!" I told him he would have to wait until Booah was done with his breakfast--I was worried that if we left all our food on the table, it would be cleaned up for us. And of course, I couldn't very well leave Noah there to eat by himself. Collin proceeded to squirm and complain and demand that Noah hurry up. In an even louder voice, and much to the amusement of Hot Dog Neck and the men seated next to us, he said, "MAMA, MAYBE THE POO POO WILL GO BACK UP IN MY HOLE!" I nearly spit my coffee all over the table, and then if it wasn't so funny, I probably would have hid under it with embarrassment.
He made it to the bathroom in time. Then we went to the play area, and Booah promptly pooped in his diaper. We cut the playtime short and went to the truck to change him...no diaper bag. We went across the street to the Target and bought diapers and wipes, cause it's not like they won't get used. Then we proceeded to look for the ever-elusive Lightning McQueen bike for Collin's birthday. I gave up and ordered it online, and had to spend an ungoldy amount of money to have it shipped 2nd day air. And then there was the Lightning McQueen helmet & knee pad set, and it actually cost more to ship it 2nd day than the set itself. Needless to say, I'm not waiting as long to buy Cameron's birthday gift.
After we came home, Booah pooped three more times. And I forgot to mention that he pooped once when he first got up. And he pooped once this evening. Sooner or later, you start to take it personally. It's like he's just doing it to get a rise out of us. Add Collin, and poop takes up a significant portion of the day. At least Cam poops by herself now. But you know, I wouldn't have it any other way. I am very grateful for my children, especially since I've just learned of this family in Pasadena whose daughter Kamryn just died of leukemia. She was only 8, like my daughter. She had red hair, like my daughter. She danced, like my daughter. It just makes me extra-grateful for these little people I have running around, pooping and screaming, making messes and fighting. Because I can still kiss them goodnight. I can still hold them when they get a skinned knee. I don't have to say goodbye, and learn how to live without them. Yep, I'm pretty thankful for poop.
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