So Christmas is over (huge sigh of relief). We got through the day with no tears, which was fantastic. The days leading up to Christmas were pretty difficult. I had a couple of days there that I could hardly even get out of bed. I just felt so completely done with everything. I think it was a mix of the stress of moving, being a little homesick, Christmastime, our house not being finished, the whole mess of everything just kind of fell down on me. Christmas day though, we decided there'd been enough wallowing time, and we went to go see some of Chris' family that I'd never met before. They were so wonderful, saying all kinds of wonderful things like, baby, that dawg bit the fool out of me!, and well, he was just fussin and fussin at me, but I didn't pay him no nevermind, or well ain't you just the prettiest thang. I really love Southern accents, and his family his very, very Southern. They were just so kind and welcoming, and just so much better than I thought they'd be. Like his Aunt, who is the one who said that the dog bit the fool out of her, is so sweet. She said to me and the kids, y'all just call me MeMaw. Which is awesome, because 1. I've never had a MeMaw, and 2. MeMaw is an awesome name.
So in the post-Christmas haze, we're attempting to get back to normal. I've decided that I'm not going to be depressed, and I'm not going to be lonely. I'm certainly not going to be bored, the kids are making sure of that. They've been fighting. A lot. Like constantly. I feel like I've been anointed the new warden of asylum. Like this morning, they were fighting because Kat was making thank you cards, David was playing his Playstation. Kat asked David how many presents her uncle got her (so she could make sure to include them all in her note). He said 2, she thought it was 3. They started screaming at each other about it. Or like last night, they were playing Battleship. Kat told David that she wanted him to tell her again all of the numbers he'd already called so she could mark them down (or some such thing), David said no, Kat said yes, and they nearly came to blows about it. I don't know if it's too much candy, not enough sleep, Christmas, or a combination of all three, but those two have lost their damn mind. And I'm not too far behind.
I find myself missing the time when I have too much to do before they get home from school, or the blissful quiet that settles over the house as they leave for the bus stop in the morning, having a cup coffee in the morning without anyone nagging at me, the mundane tasks that I do during the day...when I'm COMPLETELY ALONE. Incidentally, there are 8 more days until they go back to school, I hope. This morning, my dreams of peace and solitude were shattered. See, the state of Georgia says that the kids need some special form filled out by their doctor, verifying that they've had all their shots, etc. It can't be a Maine shot record, it has to be a Georgia shot record. So they don't need shots, just to have a Georgia doctor say that they had their shots in Maine. Confused yet? Me too. Anyway, this has to be done within 30 days of when the kids start school, so their appointments are this week. When their new pediatrician called to verify the insurance information, they told me that the number I gave them is inactive, essentially they have no insurance. When Chris transferred down here, apparently, his insurance didn't. There was some crap about how this center uses a different carrier, I don't know, I glazed over at the thought of another week of the kids bickering. Well, anyway, the lady is all, let's just reschedule so your husband's work can get this all settled. I was like, NO! The school says if this isn't done by January 5, they can't go back to school! She was like, ma'am, if there's no insurance on file, you'll have to pay cash. I was like, fine, I don't care. I'll pay cash. She was all, well...it's going to be at least $250 per child, you may end paying well over $500 for this. A small price to pay for my sanity.
Showing posts with label family fun. Show all posts
Showing posts with label family fun. Show all posts
Yeah, I'm a pretty kick-you-know-what mom
Monday night we took Davey to the KISS concert in Boston for his birthday. I know, I know, I'm a kick ass mom. Or as Davey said, a kick-you-know-what-mom. Let me start by saying, if you've never seen KISS in concert, you're really missing out. They put on one hell of a show. I've seen them once before and I was afraid it would lose some of the appeal the second time around. It totally didn't. It was seriously awesome, even if you're not a big KISS fan. If you ever get a chance you should go, you won't regret it. This morning Davey told me that his throat hurt from screaming so much. He said, I screamed my guts out. I screamed so much I have gut stains on my teeth.
Anyway, here's our concert experience. In pictures.
Anyway, here's our concert experience. In pictures.
Davey, pre-makeup. At this point he's seriously doubting my ability to do the Gene Simmons make-up correctly. Honestly, I was too.
No worries. I have mad skills, yo. I did it freehand. Apparently if my writing career fails to take off, I can always fall back on my face-painting skills.
Yep, he likes it. Hell yeah we're ready! Rock and roll, baby.
Seems like forever when you're waiting. Poor kid looked out the window just about the whole 3 hour train ride. I suggested he take a nap to pass the time.
He's most decidedly not napping. He's too busy making mean faces at me. He looks a lot scarier with the make-up on.
We had fantastic seats. Buckcherry opened, they were pretty good, better than I'd expected. This is right about the time when Davey looks at me and says, they've said the F word 10 times, mom. They need to watch their language. I kinda laughed off, then they started singing Crazy Bitch. Have you heard this song? Check the lyrics. It's a great song, just really, REALLY not kid appropriate. Good thing the lead singer was really hard to understand. Unfortunately "fuck" was about the only thing Davey did pick up on. Then the lead singer went on some tangent about how much he loved the first time he did cocaine before he started singing Lit Up. Ooops.
He's about to explode with excitement, we told him that Gene Simmons was behind the curtain. Had to do the horns again in celebration. Apparently Chris is pretty excited too, since this picture is so blurry.
This is one of my favorite pictures. That's Davey standing there on the left with his arms up. He's standing on the seat so he can see better, literally jumping up and down screaming. This was right before he turned around and yelled, Mom this is AWESOME!!
Gene Simmons above the stage singing "I Love it Loud", my favorite KISS song. This is of course after his whole blood spitting thing, which prompted another, this is SO AWESOME!! from Davey.
This is about the time I thought Davey was going to need hospitalization. Paul Stanley flying across the stadium. Davey's eyes nearly popped out of his head.
Because he was about 10 feet in front of us. It was pretty kick ass.
We smelled a strange smell...vaguely familiar...oh yes. It was pot. Very close to us. Hoping Davey doesn't get a contact high.
Massive confetti storm during Rock and Roll All Nite. It was a blizzard of fire and confetti. Looking back, probably not safe, but definitely kick ass.
They did a 45 minute encore, and we got to see the whole thing. We were pretty concerned that we wouldn't be able to because our train was scheduled to leave at 11:20, and if we missed it we'd be stuck in Boston all night (it was the last train to Maine for the night). We were done a few minutes before 11, so it worked out perfectly. Davey walked away with a $40 t-shirt (that incidently is about 14 sizes too big) and a $30 pair of signed drum sticks (even though he 1. doesn't play the drums or 2. doesn't know who the drummer is). I'm a sucker, I know. I can't help it. Looking at his face, seeing how excited he was, watching how much he enjoyed this whole concert experience, it was totally worth it.
The last thing he said to us before totally crashing was, thank you, SO, SO, SO much guys. This has been the best birthday present EVER. You guys are awesome. You're pretty awesome too, buddy.
Fall means football and headaches
Our family loves football. Shocker, right? Well, this love for football means that we take football very seriously. It's not just a game, it's a way of life. We schedule around football, both college and pro (which leaves zero time for socializing on the weekends), Davey plays football and dreams of a career in the NFL, Chris eats, sleeps, breathes and coaches football. It's this last bit that's causing a problem. Chris has always coached the kids. When they were 4 they were on this junior soccer team, and Chris was the coach. It was the most horrendously awful thing you've ever seen. Chris knows absolutely nothing about soccer and the kids were really, REALLY bad at it. To make matters worse, they were on the yellow team. So imagine this big burly guy running around in a sunshine yellow t-shirt with a bunch of 4 year olds pretending to play soccer. Most of the time they'd stop dribbling the ball to pick flowers or catch butterflies. And poor Chris would be clapping his hands and being all, good job, now run for the ball...no, leave that flower alone! The ball, get the ball! I think our record was something like 1-13. So sad. But the great thing was seeing the lengths that Chris would go to stay involved in the kids' activities. Enter football.
This is Chris' third year coaching David's football team, only this year, he's not an assistant or head coach of one of the teams, he's running the whole youth football program for our town, so the pressure is really on him. He's got parents confronting him all the time asking why they're son can't play quarterback, he's dealing with scheduling crap, mouthy 10 year olds, plus coaching his own kid and dealing with me. Well, Sunday was their first game. They played ok, not bad, but there were some issues. So Chris spent hours retooling both the offense and defense, furiously scribbling notes and X's and O's in his little notebook, so he was really looking forward to practice last night. Apparently the kids were not. I guess (and this only hearing it second-hand), the kids didn't block, they didn't do any of what they were supposed to, and Chris was really, really angry. But of course, he can't show the other kids that, he doesn't yell at his team, and really tries hard to always be positive. However, as soon as he got in the car, he called me and started venting, not really remembering that it wasn't just his son in the car, that his son is also one of his players. By the time they got home, Chris' face was red, Davey was almost in tears, it was not pretty. Davey is having a really hard time separating dad Chris from coach Chris, and Chris is having an equally hard time separating Davey the player from Davey his son.
Eventually they talked it all out, and I think they'll be better for tomorrow's practice, but man, at this rate I don't know that I'm going to keep my sanity for the season. It's so hard to watch them struggle with all this father/son stuff (when all I've ever wished for them is to get to that great father/son place) and this coach/player stuff, all the while knowing that I have to stay out of it. I like to fix things, so me butting out is really hard. I think I'm going to bake the team cookies for this week's game. Cookies solve a myriad of life's problems. Just ask my thighs and ever-expanding ass.
One bonus though: on Sunday I was sitting by the end zone, "on the wrong side of the fence", and someone said, I don't think you can sit here. I said, I'm sleeping with the coach, I can sit anywhere I want.
This is Chris' third year coaching David's football team, only this year, he's not an assistant or head coach of one of the teams, he's running the whole youth football program for our town, so the pressure is really on him. He's got parents confronting him all the time asking why they're son can't play quarterback, he's dealing with scheduling crap, mouthy 10 year olds, plus coaching his own kid and dealing with me. Well, Sunday was their first game. They played ok, not bad, but there were some issues. So Chris spent hours retooling both the offense and defense, furiously scribbling notes and X's and O's in his little notebook, so he was really looking forward to practice last night. Apparently the kids were not. I guess (and this only hearing it second-hand), the kids didn't block, they didn't do any of what they were supposed to, and Chris was really, really angry. But of course, he can't show the other kids that, he doesn't yell at his team, and really tries hard to always be positive. However, as soon as he got in the car, he called me and started venting, not really remembering that it wasn't just his son in the car, that his son is also one of his players. By the time they got home, Chris' face was red, Davey was almost in tears, it was not pretty. Davey is having a really hard time separating dad Chris from coach Chris, and Chris is having an equally hard time separating Davey the player from Davey his son.
Eventually they talked it all out, and I think they'll be better for tomorrow's practice, but man, at this rate I don't know that I'm going to keep my sanity for the season. It's so hard to watch them struggle with all this father/son stuff (when all I've ever wished for them is to get to that great father/son place) and this coach/player stuff, all the while knowing that I have to stay out of it. I like to fix things, so me butting out is really hard. I think I'm going to bake the team cookies for this week's game. Cookies solve a myriad of life's problems. Just ask my thighs and ever-expanding ass.
One bonus though: on Sunday I was sitting by the end zone, "on the wrong side of the fence", and someone said, I don't think you can sit here. I said, I'm sleeping with the coach, I can sit anywhere I want.
Things I didn't know in the 4th grade
Because it's back to school and apparently that means that being a sloth isn't as cool as it was all summer, we've been trying to eat at the table every night. I think it's a pretty good thing, we get to reinforce/remind about table manners, spend some quality time together, and of course, we get good dinner conversation.
Tonight Chris was asking the kids how their day was, and Davey was telling us about this new Lady Gaga song that he heard on the bus on the way to school, "Love Game". He starts giggling, and says, I totally know what THAT sounds like.
Me: Oh, yeah? What's that?
Davey: Well, I mean...she says she wants to take a ride on a disco stick.
Chris raises his eyebrows, but buries his head in his plate. Apparently I'm taking this one.
Me: And what do you think a disco stick is?
Davey: Mom, c'mon, you know...
Me: No, I really don't. Please tell me.
Davey: You know...private parts?
Me: Do you mean a penis?
At this point Davey's face is near purple with embarrassment, he bursts out laughing, Kat is practically choking on her food she's laughing so hard, and Chris is still conveniently absent from the conversation.
Me (to Chris): Are you gonna jump in here?
Chris: Don't drag me into this, I'm just eating my dinner minding my own business.
Davey: It's totally about sex.
Me: Why do you think it's about about sex, and what the hell would you know about it?
Davey: EVERYONE knows about it. It's not hard to figure out. Disco stick? Hello?
Now, I read "Where Did I Come From?" to the kids, and I explained the birds and the bees, so it's not like they don't know the basics. But clearly, he's getting some other sex talk somewhere else, because I never taught him anything about a disco stick or anything even remotely that vulgar. It is interesting though how these family dinners seem to bring out the best in my kids. It reminds me of a few years ago we were having dinner at the table, when Kat asked me about the dishes I have on the wall. I said, oh, they're antique china. Davey starts giggling, and Chris and I are both like, what? He says, China? Like a girl's china? Chris and I start laughing, and Kat sighs and rolls her eyes. She says, David, you dummy. It's a BAchina. Poor girl, nearly made it to 8 years old thinking that you call a vajayjay a bachina. Not coincidentally, I bought the "Where Did I Come From?" book a few weeks later.
Anyway, Davey wasn't naming names, but I'm thinking that this whole 4th grade thing, is a bad idea. Disco stick. Honestly. I doubt I would've made that connection, but then again, I was 29 before I knew what ZZ Top's Pearl Necklace was about.
Tonight Chris was asking the kids how their day was, and Davey was telling us about this new Lady Gaga song that he heard on the bus on the way to school, "Love Game". He starts giggling, and says, I totally know what THAT sounds like.
Me: Oh, yeah? What's that?
Davey: Well, I mean...she says she wants to take a ride on a disco stick.
Chris raises his eyebrows, but buries his head in his plate. Apparently I'm taking this one.
Me: And what do you think a disco stick is?
Davey: Mom, c'mon, you know...
Me: No, I really don't. Please tell me.
Davey: You know...private parts?
Me: Do you mean a penis?
At this point Davey's face is near purple with embarrassment, he bursts out laughing, Kat is practically choking on her food she's laughing so hard, and Chris is still conveniently absent from the conversation.
Me (to Chris): Are you gonna jump in here?
Chris: Don't drag me into this, I'm just eating my dinner minding my own business.
Davey: It's totally about sex.
Me: Why do you think it's about about sex, and what the hell would you know about it?
Davey: EVERYONE knows about it. It's not hard to figure out. Disco stick? Hello?
Now, I read "Where Did I Come From?" to the kids, and I explained the birds and the bees, so it's not like they don't know the basics. But clearly, he's getting some other sex talk somewhere else, because I never taught him anything about a disco stick or anything even remotely that vulgar. It is interesting though how these family dinners seem to bring out the best in my kids. It reminds me of a few years ago we were having dinner at the table, when Kat asked me about the dishes I have on the wall. I said, oh, they're antique china. Davey starts giggling, and Chris and I are both like, what? He says, China? Like a girl's china? Chris and I start laughing, and Kat sighs and rolls her eyes. She says, David, you dummy. It's a BAchina. Poor girl, nearly made it to 8 years old thinking that you call a vajayjay a bachina. Not coincidentally, I bought the "Where Did I Come From?" book a few weeks later.
Anyway, Davey wasn't naming names, but I'm thinking that this whole 4th grade thing, is a bad idea. Disco stick. Honestly. I doubt I would've made that connection, but then again, I was 29 before I knew what ZZ Top's Pearl Necklace was about.
School daze
This whole getting on a schedule thing sucks. I've really enjoyed sleeping late, having lazy afternoons, and I've especially enjoyed sleeping in. Oh, did I say that already? So school started yesterday, and so began the school-time morning ritual. Only this year is sucks even more usual. As great as it is to want your kids to be clean, it also means that they start to actually enjoy showering, which means 2 kids, 2 showers, 1 bathroom...mommy doesn't get to use the bathroom...like ever. I get up at 5:30 when Chris leaves for work and stumble around until I get my coffee. Kat has decided that she needs at least an hour and a half to get ready, so she gets up at 6:00. She's also taken to showering in the morning instead of at night (when it was much more convenient). She says that her curls don't look right in the morning if she showers at night, so she has to shower and blow dry her hair before school. Personally, I think her hair looks exactly the same, morning or night, but what do I know? I tried to tell her that, but she rolled her eyes at me and said I just don't understand. She's taking fourth grade fashion very seriously. She's meticulously choosing her outfits, right down to the coordinating hair accessories. For instance, this morning, we had a whole conversation about whether the brown headband would work better than the black headband.
Anyway, after she's done hogging the bathroom, I get Davey up at 6:30. He's really digging the whole clean hair thing, so he also has to take a shower in the morning. He's been showering right before bed and then again in the morning and I'm walking a fine line between bitching because he's using so much hot water and being happy because I don't have to fight with him to bathe. He's also being a little fashion maven, he just tries to hide it a little better than his sister. He said this morning that he was wearing that particular shirt because it was black, which goes with everything, and that his belt matched his pants, but he was sure to slip a not that I care at the end. To which I replied, no, of course not.
I spend the majority of the morning making lunches, putting away dishes, and wandering around aimlessly because my coffee hasn't kicked in yet. I did get some laundry put away this morning, and it is the second day in a row that my bed was made, which is kind of nice. Most people would really like the slow pace of the morning, not having to rush around to get the kids ready, and would probably take the opportunity to have a little "me time" since you can't really do much else but wait. But I find it annoying that I can't be sleeping and exceptionally annoying that I can't even think about getting into the bathroom until almost 7:30, when I need to leave at 8:00. Yesterday I tried to do my hair, I barely got the flat iron plugged in before one of the kids was in getting in my way. I eventually gave up. Today I didn't even bother to try. For the past 2 days I've just worn a hat. I'm thinking that this new attention to cleanliness and vanity by the kids is gonna make me a hat person, which is cool because I like hats. And it'd be kind of cool if people were like, Merritt, I love that hat. You're such a hat person! Yesterday my ex said, do you know you're wearing a $60 baseball hat? (it's a True Religion hat) I was like, yeah, I got it on sale, what do you care? He was like, I don't, I'm just making an observation. I like it, it suits you. Which I guess is kind of like saying I'm hat person. Either that or he's looking for a way to get out of paying child support this month...perhaps I should check into that.
Anyway, after she's done hogging the bathroom, I get Davey up at 6:30. He's really digging the whole clean hair thing, so he also has to take a shower in the morning. He's been showering right before bed and then again in the morning and I'm walking a fine line between bitching because he's using so much hot water and being happy because I don't have to fight with him to bathe. He's also being a little fashion maven, he just tries to hide it a little better than his sister. He said this morning that he was wearing that particular shirt because it was black, which goes with everything, and that his belt matched his pants, but he was sure to slip a not that I care at the end. To which I replied, no, of course not.
I spend the majority of the morning making lunches, putting away dishes, and wandering around aimlessly because my coffee hasn't kicked in yet. I did get some laundry put away this morning, and it is the second day in a row that my bed was made, which is kind of nice. Most people would really like the slow pace of the morning, not having to rush around to get the kids ready, and would probably take the opportunity to have a little "me time" since you can't really do much else but wait. But I find it annoying that I can't be sleeping and exceptionally annoying that I can't even think about getting into the bathroom until almost 7:30, when I need to leave at 8:00. Yesterday I tried to do my hair, I barely got the flat iron plugged in before one of the kids was in getting in my way. I eventually gave up. Today I didn't even bother to try. For the past 2 days I've just worn a hat. I'm thinking that this new attention to cleanliness and vanity by the kids is gonna make me a hat person, which is cool because I like hats. And it'd be kind of cool if people were like, Merritt, I love that hat. You're such a hat person! Yesterday my ex said, do you know you're wearing a $60 baseball hat? (it's a True Religion hat) I was like, yeah, I got it on sale, what do you care? He was like, I don't, I'm just making an observation. I like it, it suits you. Which I guess is kind of like saying I'm hat person. Either that or he's looking for a way to get out of paying child support this month...perhaps I should check into that.
Where an adult can be a kid
Since the summer is winding down, we've been trying to squeeze as much "fun" as possible into these final weeks. Saturday was pretty hot, we spent the morning at Kat's cheering evaluations, so that kind of made a beach day impossible. We decided instead for some air conditioned fun at the most hellacious and torturous place on the planet magical place on Earth, Chuck E. Cheese's. Don't get me wrong, if you're a kid, Chuck E. Cheese's is the shit. Loud flashing games, sub-par pizza, a freakishly large dancing mouse, it's all good. Back a couple of years ago when Chris and I got together, Chris was trying his best to buy the kids' affection by taking them to Chuck E. Cheese's like every weekend all summer long. It totally worked too, they fell in love with him. I, on the other hand, swore that not only would I never go to Chuck E. Cheese's again, I'd also never forgive him for subjecting me to that much torture fun. So anyway, because I'm a glutton for punishment an awesome mom, we piled in the car and went to Chuck E. Cheese's.
I have to say though, I don't know if it was because I'd taken an handful of ibuprofen ahead of time or what, but I had a really good time in spite of myself. Chris came well prepared with all of his coupons (I swear this guy uses a coupon for EVERYTHING. Name an activity/restaurant/item you want to buy, and he has a coupon for it), so he was happier than a pig in shit. I sat down at our table, preparing for a full day of pasting on a smile and saying, that's awesome! Good job!, but Chris had other plans. He jingled a cup full of tokens at me and grinned, oh it's on. First we hit skeeball, which seriously is the best game ever. We had a tournament to see who would have the title of "Ultimate Ownage of All Things Skeeball" (he won, but not by much). I'm pretty good at skeeball. Which is nice to know, because I'm always looking to beef up my resume.
From there we played this zombie killing game, where you basically just shoot the shit out of the zombies. There may have been more of a story or plot to it, but I wasn't paying attention. Killing zombies is fucking awesome. At one point Davey came over and was like, Mom, I'm getting I'm kind of hungry. I ignored him the first 73 times he said it (killing zombies takes concentration, y'all), then he was totally distracting me.
Me: Go play. I'm really busy right now. Didn't you eat earlier today?
David: Uh, yeah, I had breakfast, but it's like 3.
Me: Yeah, then you're fine, go play, I'm killing zombies right now.
Kat: That looks fun, can I play?
Me: NO! Go away! I'm busy!
By the time Chris and I were done, we were both all sweaty, and our arms and hands were completely cramped. But, holy shit it was fun. I felt kind bad for blowing Davey off, so I went and found him on some air craft-flying-shooting game. And he's such a good boy, he even had his seat belt on. Kat was of course busy hogging the Deal or No Deal game and pocketing tickets some poor kid had dropped.
Really, the only bad part of the day was when this sweaty little kid ran by me, almost knocking me down, screaming, Chuckie! Oh my GOD! It's Chuckie! He ran up to the big creepy mouse and gave him a hug. But honestly, even that was kinda heart-warming. I'm getting way too soft in my old age.
I have to say though, I don't know if it was because I'd taken an handful of ibuprofen ahead of time or what, but I had a really good time in spite of myself. Chris came well prepared with all of his coupons (I swear this guy uses a coupon for EVERYTHING. Name an activity/restaurant/item you want to buy, and he has a coupon for it), so he was happier than a pig in shit. I sat down at our table, preparing for a full day of pasting on a smile and saying, that's awesome! Good job!, but Chris had other plans. He jingled a cup full of tokens at me and grinned, oh it's on. First we hit skeeball, which seriously is the best game ever. We had a tournament to see who would have the title of "Ultimate Ownage of All Things Skeeball" (he won, but not by much). I'm pretty good at skeeball. Which is nice to know, because I'm always looking to beef up my resume.
From there we played this zombie killing game, where you basically just shoot the shit out of the zombies. There may have been more of a story or plot to it, but I wasn't paying attention. Killing zombies is fucking awesome. At one point Davey came over and was like, Mom, I'm getting I'm kind of hungry. I ignored him the first 73 times he said it (killing zombies takes concentration, y'all), then he was totally distracting me.
Me: Go play. I'm really busy right now. Didn't you eat earlier today?
David: Uh, yeah, I had breakfast, but it's like 3.
Me: Yeah, then you're fine, go play, I'm killing zombies right now.
Kat: That looks fun, can I play?
Me: NO! Go away! I'm busy!
By the time Chris and I were done, we were both all sweaty, and our arms and hands were completely cramped. But, holy shit it was fun. I felt kind bad for blowing Davey off, so I went and found him on some air craft-flying-shooting game. And he's such a good boy, he even had his seat belt on. Kat was of course busy hogging the Deal or No Deal game and pocketing tickets some poor kid had dropped.
Really, the only bad part of the day was when this sweaty little kid ran by me, almost knocking me down, screaming, Chuckie! Oh my GOD! It's Chuckie! He ran up to the big creepy mouse and gave him a hug. But honestly, even that was kinda heart-warming. I'm getting way too soft in my old age.
Best things about family reunions: lobster and nipples
Saturday we had our annual family reunion. It had all your typical family reunion stuff, a bunch of cousins whose names you can't remember, too many kids making too much noise, a lot of hugging (which sucks because I really dislike being touched), and of course alcohol. It's always pretty cool though because it's a lobster bake, so we get free lobster and clams. One of the few good things about living here is that lobster is cheap and plentiful, so it's kinda like bologna, except it tastes better and isn't made of entrails and tongues. My cousin who hosts this whole thing also has a beautiful kidney-shaped pool, so even though it was really hot, everyone was able to cool off in the pool. Except me, because there's no way in hell I'd get in a bathing suit in front of that many people.
Chris left his $100 sunglasses there. He's not sure where they may be, or even for sure that they're there, just that he doesn't have them anymore. He's super responsible like that. It's really sad that I have to keep track of his stuff just as much as I have to keep track of the kids' stuff. I mean, I have a big purse, and any time we go anywhere I take this big LL Bean bag. It's got everything you'd ever need, bathing suits, snacks, books, band-aids, change of clothes, a tent, a spare tire, you name it. All moms carry them, it's just kinda what they do. Anyway, I have these bags, and he's still unable to put his shit in either one. I don't care that he needs glasses to see and he's blind as a bat (are bats actually blind, by the way? I'm gonna need to check into that...) without them, he doesn't get anymore sunglasses. He can squint from now on.
Typical of family reunions, they took way too many pictures. As they were grouping the different generations together for pictures, one of my aunts said, you better not put the picture of my nipples on the intra web! I'm not entirely sure who she was talking to, or why exactly there are pictures of her nipples in existence, or why someone would post them, but you know that damned intra web, it's all about sex and nipples. I think she was a little drunk, but I'm not sure. It's probably too much to hope for that it was just the alcohol talking.
Chris left his $100 sunglasses there. He's not sure where they may be, or even for sure that they're there, just that he doesn't have them anymore. He's super responsible like that. It's really sad that I have to keep track of his stuff just as much as I have to keep track of the kids' stuff. I mean, I have a big purse, and any time we go anywhere I take this big LL Bean bag. It's got everything you'd ever need, bathing suits, snacks, books, band-aids, change of clothes, a tent, a spare tire, you name it. All moms carry them, it's just kinda what they do. Anyway, I have these bags, and he's still unable to put his shit in either one. I don't care that he needs glasses to see and he's blind as a bat (are bats actually blind, by the way? I'm gonna need to check into that...) without them, he doesn't get anymore sunglasses. He can squint from now on.
Typical of family reunions, they took way too many pictures. As they were grouping the different generations together for pictures, one of my aunts said, you better not put the picture of my nipples on the intra web! I'm not entirely sure who she was talking to, or why exactly there are pictures of her nipples in existence, or why someone would post them, but you know that damned intra web, it's all about sex and nipples. I think she was a little drunk, but I'm not sure. It's probably too much to hope for that it was just the alcohol talking.
