Saturday, August 23, 2008
Sometimes things just don't go as planned. Life is that way.
I begged. I pleaded. I even thought about crying. My husband still left. No, not left, left. Just left. See, he's got this biannual "boyfriend" trip as I've come to term it. Six grown men pour themselves into a van. They pack all of the necessitites (i.e., horshshoe set, corn hole, swimsuit, wife beaters (if you don't know what that is 1st consider yourself lucky and 2nd ask me)). Then they drive all night to a campground somewhere very far south of here, set up camp, hit the Shoney's, then back to the pool and shoe pit. They see a few Nascar races. They reverse the whole thing and come back home smelling oh so sweet and packing dirty clothes. Sounds like fun, I know.
I hate these weekends. Actually, it used to just be a weekend - now somehow it has stretched to departing on Wednesday evening. I thought my sweet Joe and I would sit and cuddle each other a few minutes before he left as we talked about how much we would miss each other. Perhaps fit in a few private minutes. You know - husbandly/wifely time. Right. Instead I was in the kitchen whipping up some fresh corn salsa he just knew his buddies would love.
Honey, where are my other shorts?
I don't know love, I washed all of your laundry in anticipation of this trip. They should be in the pile of folded laundry covering our dining room table or in your drawer. Kiss kiss.
Try the dryer.
Here they...what's all over my shorts??
Couldn't tell from here - sort of chopping tomatoes for the salsa, honey!
I hope these aren't ruined!
They might be, sweetie.
What IS this?
Bring them over and I'll take a look while I boil the corn, love.
Smells like dried poo, sugar pie! Must have missed a deposit and it went through the wash! Guess you'll be living in your bathing suit this weekend.
Fun times. Anyway, he's gone. I'm a single parent of five. Sometimes six. For a few minutes it was eight. We have rotating kids around here.
Thought I'd catch up on laundry --- which is the first reason I was inspired to post today. See, my youngest started daycare (ack) and she has to take a small pillow and blanket for rest time. We had no "small" pillows so I called my mother-in-law. She has one of everything and six of others. Of Course she had one we could have. It was just the perfect size!! She received it from the hospital after she had her hysterectomy. She had her hysterectomy directly after my husband was born (as a result of his 10 pound self). My husband is close to 40 years-old. Anyway, thought I'd "freshen" up the pillow before I sent it with her. I made a new pillow case that was purple and just the right size and threw the pillow in the washer.
When I opened it up.....I saw the above-picture. Nice.
Life just never goes like you plan. More on that later.
Friday, August 22, 2008
Friday, August 15, 2008
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
Friday, August 8, 2008
You know the scene if you have kids, have every been around kids, or know a kid. You pick up the phone and all BLEEP breaks out. I was trying to have a five minute conversation about a really cool party we're going to go to this weekend where we'll all have tons of fun and pig out on your typical party fare. As SOON as I begin talking to my friend, A, about it...my three youngest go to screamin' and kickin' and fallin' out over a marble game. I send them to their rooms so I could finish in peace.
Phone call ends. I talk to the neighbor awhile. Fold some laundry. Call the punks out of their rooms and serve a snack.
I don't know.
Someone must have seen him. Go tell him his snack is ready.
He's not there.
What? Where could he be? Did he pack his little hanky full of arm men, tie it on the end of a stick, and make a break for it? I think not.
So I search. He's not in the room - although for all of the toys and junk lying about he could have been and I may have missed him. I look in all of the rooms, walk around the outside of the house. Check for his bike. Not in the car (thank goodness - it's hot out). Maybe I missed him on the first sweep through the trashed room. Look again. Not there.
Hmmm. Strange how the new "MP" (i.e. tiny radio with headphones that came for free with his new shirt - not a real MP3 player) was hanging out from under the bed.
There he is. Isn't he cute? Asleep with music blaring in his ears. But cute. By the way - the new shirt says, "My Mom Rocks!"