first, let me catch up on what’s been happening ’round these parts. it’s been ages since i’ve blogged. i have a half dozen posts started in my head and notes app on my phone, but actually sitting down for any length of time alone at a computer with a keyboard hasn’t happened.
work is busy, as usual. kids are busy, as usual. in addition to weekly swimming lessons, we’ve been doing soccer lessons for henry, too. anna is…very attached to me. she’s getting more interesting and fun and speaking real english words, but now has the words to express EXACTLY what she isn’t getting or how i could RIGHT NOW better serve her. and she says “chewbacca” but still won’t say “henry.” i think it’s very much on purpose and she’s trying to establish control. like refusing to say ‘voldemort,’ maybe? if you say his name you give him power or something?
henry has started breaking out of the house because he can and all of jokes end in BUTT HAHAHAHAHA. his hair has gotten really long and he’s been refusing to get it cut, but i’m making him because today he started doing the jusin bieber head flick to get it out of his eyes. NOPE.
we’re still working on our side businesses and figuring out how to grow those. and we’re all in/involved in my sister’s wedding next month, so there are parties to plan and dresses to fit and legs to shave and children to coax into tuxes for that, too. and then i auditioned for and got into a one-act play, so i’ve been rehearsing for that in my “spare time.”
i sheepishly admitted that i was doing this play on top of everything else and a good friend said “you’re such an idiot.” #truth. that’s how you know the people who really love you. they will call you on your idiot ways and always reveal your #truths to you. it’s too late, though. next time i’m call her first before i make the bad choice (no i will not. we both know i will not).
ANYway, so that’s all to say that all kind of kid blog-worthy things have happened that i haven’t gotten out of my head and onto the “page.”
warning: much whining to follow. and poop. always with the poop.
first. summer is an enormous let-down when you’re responsible for little kids. i mean, srsly, it’s one of those things that should be and HAS been so glorious and is SO ruined by small children. (blessings. they are. you know i know they are. love them. so grateful. ok. going to keep whining now).
i think of summer like it was in high school. these long days with not much to do. lying out meant actually risking being there long enough to get burned or sweaty. the beach was a thing we did. we ambled. we even got bored sometimes. we walked a lot just to be doing something. there were endless lazy gatherings of friends and new loves and fireflies and bonfires and just peace.
so NOW, summer is sunscreen in the eyeball but not on the back of the tiny neck where now it’s all red. layers of bug spray. and fucking TICKS everywhere! in my yard, in my dreams, everywhere. (is that a target lesion!?) flowers and plants you put in the ground on purpose being pulled out by the roots by cackling mischief in purple shoes. and they ALWAYS want to be outside. which is so great! yay! kids still want to explore nature and not watch TV all the time. yes! call the journalists! except there’s still crap i need to get done inside the house and i cannot leave them alone outside because they will obviously relieve themselves of life.
srsly. summer means new ways for the kids to kill themselves like in pools and drinking from rusty hoses and running loose into the street. and in those same bonfires that used to be sexy and fun.
all mammals get squirrely in nice weather, i think. kids are, of course, not exceptions- maybe actually models of squirrelyness. so i find myself saying more than usual “look at my face. do you see that it is talking and those words are directed at you? you have to at least acknowledge that i am speaking.” and you, know, by the time i finish that needlessly long statement, she is in the garage checking out the weed poisons and he is streaking naked through the front yard wielding the gardening sheers .
so a few weeks ago i got out the filthy blow-up pool from last season that we had just sort of let rot over the winter. because i was simultaneously watching the kids/preventing their demises, it took me FOREVER to wash the thing and figure out how to blow it up. i mean, like 2 hours of yelling and mild successes and then more yelling and finally, big empty raft. (where is robb in all this, you ask? he’s been putting out these glorious meals from the grill that take about 3 hours to prep and serve, so he’s off the hook for much of the day as he “makes dinner.” it’s all a very elaborate ploy but it gets good grilled food in my belly, so i’m playing along).
so, anyway. pool finally inflated…and as soon as the 30 degree water from the hose is in it, both kids jumped in, fully clothed.
and she was in her regular diaper.
‘is that a wood chip? why would there be a wood chip in the water? we don’t have any—-ooooooh noooo!’
so i emptied, re-washed and deflated the stupid poop pool.