I haven't had much time or energy to do much of anything lately. I have been overwhelmed lately, super tired, really excited by life. I especially am loving the people that my kids are turning into. This 7 year old man is something else.
One of my friends has quite the eye for photog and did not take this pic.
Every year, Sean has a birthday. And every year for the last 15 years it has either been while we were at Young Life camp or during SOS. Luckily he isn't me and doesn't need a lot of whoop-e-dee-do on his day. But it is still the day that we celebrate the love of my life...
I wrote this twice and twice this "computer" deleted it. So for the third time we will be quick so my anger stays at bay.
Here is to the best daddy in the history of daddydom.
These three little people are incredibly lucky to have a dad that is head over heels in love with them, who works hard to support them, who is their best encourager, who is their best playmate. Who would have thought at 38 and 361 days, Seans three best friends would be 7, 3, 2.
Well its Friday night and apparently someone has a crush on me. I have gotten so many emails that say that I am cute and that there are plenty of eligible men waiting to meet me, tonight! Can you believe that? They'd drop their plans for tonight just to meet little ol me! Who would have thought? I wonder how they all got my email? I may have to pass their info along, I have some pretty cute single friends and after all, I am taken. When I respond to their emails, they all seem to handle me being off the market pretty well. I guess there are lots of fish in the cyber sea.
What a day, what a day. May I first say that our lawn is horrible, know that we know that. I just am not up for gigantor water bills in order to keep up. Even so, we still mow it. Today was mow the grass day. Normally this is one of my favorite days of the week. I love being outside, I don't mind pushing the mower because in my brain, this is some sort of super duper exercise program that Billy Blanks et al haven't come up with yet. -
Today though, was different. And I'll tell you why. -
FRICKIN CICADAS. -
It all started as it normally does with the adding of the liquid gold to the mower and the starting up which I am self conscious about anyways because who can really know how they look pulling the starter pulley thing over and over while the machine and my neighbors laugh. -
Usually I mow around the edges of the yard twice then work in row like fashion. We have two trees in our yard that in the springtime are the prettiest trees ever, today they were a playground for cockroachian torturers. As I ducked under the first tree in a matter of seconds, there was a swarm or those daggone cicadas and they were in the shape of an arrow coming right after me. I had no choice but to swat and flail my arms to rid them from sucking my blood.
Our mower is one of those self propelled ones. Today, it was self propelling its way into our neighbors deck because I needed both arms for self defense. If that mower wasn't so heavy I would have swung it around to aerochop those things. Now our neighbors have one strip from our side yard to their deck until they mow again.
The taunting continued and I could only swat and shoo them away nicely for so long. At some point I think I even yelled at them loudly enough for the guy putting new siding on the house next door to become convinced he shouldn't turn his back on me or I'd aerochop him too. As our little red toro hummed along, I swear to you I think they thought it was their mother ship coming to get them. They just plopped right on there for a little ride.
As I said before, I normally go in a linear pattern, today not so much. Their horribleness also like to lay in the grass. I just happened to rid the world of quite a few of those &*%^$ as I could by running them over not on purpose but because I thought today would be good for no pattern at all, just circles and lines and right angles whenever I felt like it. PETA Schmeta.
Here's the other thing. At one point a little stick got in my sock so I stopped for a sec to get it out (the stick by the way made my ankle bleed). I put my shoe back on only to find that one of the crappin things flew in my shoe and was in there when only my foot was supposed to be.
And I don't want to talk about when one flew in the car when Parker and I were trying to go the the store. Or when I was reputting my hair up and one got stuck inside my ponytail. These little devil pets are not my friends. Or the one that flew in my shortpants.
So someone better give me some flippin answers. How long are these little nightmares staying? Why are they at my house and not at my aunts 2.7 miles north or my friends 1.1 miles west? Why are they so dang loud? What is their purpose? Why did I see people collecting bagfuls of them?
Screw the neighbors, I'm covering my yard with pebbles and cacti.
Amidst the chaos of all things today, the first Friday with no school, our nephew being here, the first day of the pool opening, the fourth baseball game of six baseball games in ten days, me not feeling great (but its mind over matter), tonight is awesomeness. Tonight the QCP have a show and I couldn't be more excited. If you are looking for something fun to do tonight, head to Cincinnati Ballet Tech at 8 in the pm, pay $5 at the door and prepare to be amused.
I have had lots of good weekends in my half-way-to-70 life. This past one is dangerously close to the top of the list. Two of my BF's and I spent the night at my other two BF's house.
We did nothing but eat, laugh, admire the stars, tell stories and watch the occasional home movie. Oh and we hid from Debbie when she went to the bathroom, every time. The first time she used the facilities, as she left the room she said, "Oh and I have nightmares of going to the bathroom and coming back to everyone hiding from me." At that point we, at Holley's leading, felt like we had no choice but to hide with that admission.
We hid in the laundry room, the closet, the office, the garage and my favorite, under the deck. After the deck hiding, Debbie came back and we giggled as she sighed, "Oh crappin dogs you guys..." Peggy tried to give her a hint as to our whereabouts by tossing a rock over the railing and up onto the deck. Peggybelle was a great athlete but I don't think rock tossing was her sport. As she hurled the rock, it was mostly up and not so much over her head as it landed right exactly back on the top of her head. I just thought it was a pebble she threw but apparently it was more of a gigantic boulder that could have crushed her skull.
Those memories along with harmonious singing (choreography by Suzer), lobsters, jaunts down memory lane and the most beautiful ring from my grandmother-in-law and my aunt-in-law, go down as my favorite 35th birthday party ever.