We start each week here with grand plans. We’re going to finish picking up leaves (shut up) in the yard, pull weeds, clean the house, finally take this or that to the dump, not take naps when the Peanut does because he was up at 6AM and we didn’t go to bed until 2 and both of us get up when he gets up so we can work and go to bed at a reasonable hour. We give up on the both-of-us-getting-up by Monday and the no-naps by Tuesday (mainly the Chop, but I do occasionally try to sneak one in when it’s my turn to get up and I’ve slept four hours, wtf), but we try in vain all weekend to clean the house, go to the dump and do yard work. It’s not that we don’t have good intentions, we just find hanging out with the Peanut – and sleeping in – more entertaining by the time the weekend rolls around.
Holiday weekends are my favorite. I feel like Sunday is Saturday, so I can clean and the Chop can go to the dump and we can take the Peanut to the park and I don’t have to bust my butt to work all night… because Monday no one calls me. No one calls, mostly no one emails and I have a day to work on big or overdue projects. We still get to play outside and the Chop gets a nap and I get several blissfully uninterrupted hours.
Then it’s Tuesday and there are only three more days left of the week and yeah, the weeding is probably not getting done. But we did go to Home Depot and buy a bin for clippings and a wheelbarrow for hauling and a new wading pool for the Peanut, so this weekend, we shall tackle the damn yard.
Don’t buy a house with a quarter acre of beautifully manicured, loaded with flowers and plants, yard. If you don’t have time to weed and whatever the hell it is they do in the spring and the fall, you’ll spend an arm and a leg on someone who does.
Many of my family members served in the military. My dad, both of my grandfathers, three of my cousins, one of my uncles and many of my great uncles… and all but one of them came back alive and whole (one great uncle’s plane was shot down). My dad tells marvelous stories about being in the Army, as did my grandfather about being in the Air Force and my uncle about being in the Navy. They ribbed each other about being in different branches, but they respected the choice.
I’m proud to call each and every one of them family.
The Chop and I decided earlier this year that April would be the ideal time to start trying for a second baby. We have family trips in August and October and the rest of the family is coming out for Christmas so we can all drive to my parent’s new place. If we started trying in April, we’d have a few months to get pregnant, then I’d only be moderately pregnant in August and October, and able to go north for Christmas without concern of going into labor.
Except we forgot that we get pregnant extremely easily… as in freakishly easily.
Baby number two is on it’s way. I’m not sure how far along I am, but I’m guessing about five weeks. Which means we managed to get pregnant in two. What. the. hell.
We saw The Avengers tonight while on a double date. Our friend is 32 weeks pregnant and managed to not get up to use the restroom once… but at the end, when the Chop requested we stay seated to see the special scenes after the credits, she asked him if he wanted to see her pee in the theater when she stood up, lol. He informed her we’d tell the management that someone spilled Mountain Dew. 😉
The movie was AWESOME and our theatre had some very enthusiastic fans.. particularly after this scene, which had everyone laughing hysterically.
When I was a kid, I used to listen to songs on repeat, watch the same movie over and over and read the same book a hundred times. I know now that’s normal and how kids learn the world around them – I also know it drove my parents insane, lol.
Newsies was one of those movies that we (my sister, I, my best friend Em) watched religiously. Once a week for months we’d sit in front of the TV, absorbed in what we considered the best movie of all time. We sang the songs, attempted to dance the dances, dissected the love interest… there was literally nothing about that movie we hadn’t memorized. We each had a favorite (Jack, Spot, Davey) and passionately defended our choices (as girls of a certain age are want to do).
The minute the music started on Broadway last night, my sister and I were transported back to our youth. We grinned and cheered through the entire production (as did everyone in the audience), sang along with some of the music and talked nonstop about how great it was during intermission. They changed part of the story (bulking up the love interest and removing Bill Pullman’s character – a sacrilege), which made us sad – but we still loved it.
