Hahaha...so cheesy.
This song has actually gotten quite a bit of playtime on all of the major media outlets the last week, with Tim Russert's passing. Needless to say, Brian and I were huge fans of his...uggh...why didn't I post about that last weekend?
Anyway, the song's been in the back of my head a lot lately, for obvious reasons.
But then I listened to it on my ipod yesterday while I was running...it's on my playlist, as it's always been one of my all-time favorite songs. And easily in my top 3 Springsteen songs.
An ex-boyfriend of mine, who shall remain nameless...though, I've only had a few...used to make fun of me for liking Bruce Springsteen.
And even though I wanted nothing more than to impress the socks off of this particular guy...I never gave in on this one. Rubbed his face in it, actually. Played it on jukeboxes in bars in Chicago...
Thunder Road is just one of the best songs of all time, and if you have an ipod, I suggest downloading it for your next workout.:)
Listening to it the other day, I was immediately reminded of the many times I would jam out to the song in my tiny room in my apartment on Orchard Ave (ironic) in Chicago...door closed, jumping up and down and dancing with my arms in the air...singing at the top of my lungs..."Whoa, oh...come take my hand...we're headin out tonight to case the promiseland..."
For some reason it also makes me think of all the fun, carefree times Brian and I had living in the city...the many nights hopping from bar to bar...playing pool...darts...going bowling...and always, walking home down Walton at the end of the evening.
And yes, many evenings would include me sitting on the front stoop swearing that I couldn't go inside until we walked up Western to the local McDonald's.
But I'm just saying.
Among the more memorable, though, were nights of laughs with friends over Rolling Rock beer at The Rainbow...where we'd spend more $$ on the photo booth for black and white photos of us than we would on our actual bar tab. Finding a strip of goofy pics in my purse the next morning was almost a regular occurrance.
Oh...I guess I'm a bit nostalgic.
Why, you ask?
Because we're going to Chicaggy tomorrow...just Brian and me...for the first time, staying in the city without kids.
I've been without him, he's been without me...but we haven't been together since longer than I can remember.
We'll be visiting Denise and Paul, and I couldn't be more excited. On the agenda is a visit to our old neighborhood...and Brian doesn't know this, but I'm planning on ringing the buzzer at 2335 W. Walton to see if we can go in and take a peek.
At the very least I'm going to sit on the front stoop for a bit.:)
Not that I'm sentimental.
Also on the agenda is a trip to the Diversey River Bowl...one of our most favorite haunts. If memory serves, they have Hacker Pschorr (dude, sp?) on tap. But then again, that was 6 years ago.:)
At any rate, I'm excited for a great weekend away...even though I'll miss my two little cherubs.
But...in the words of The Boss (somewhere there's an ex-boyfriend cringing right now)...
"Show a little faith, there's magic in the night...you aint no beauty, but hey you're allll-right....oh...but that's alright with me."
Um, not sure what that means.
But I love it.
Friday, June 20, 2008
Thursday, June 19, 2008
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
Let's see, how do I best describe this morning...
scariest moment of my life? yup.
worst four minutes of my life? yup.
best hug from Jonny ever? definitely.
This morning, at the library, I lost Jonathan.
I didn't just lose sight of him for a few seconds, I actually lost him.
And if you are a mom, and this has ever happened to you...you know the to hell and back experience I've had today.
Nevermind that it didn't take place at the mall, an amusement park, or any such place of mass chaos.
EGR library on a Wednesday morning makes any of those places look like day care centers.
And at any rate, when you've lost your child, it doesn't matter where you are...it's just the worst, most dreadful, disorienting, bottom-falling-out feeling you could ever have.
So here's what happened:
I decide not to bring in the Maclaren this morning, since we're just going in and out for Storytime, and I know we won't be lingering too long...so no need to confine Jonathan. Plus, I had snacks in my purse.
We walk into the kid area, just outside Miss Trish's room, and the boys get busy playing...Benjamin at the kitchen/store area, and Jonathan at the magnetic board with letters...I'm basically at Jonny's heels the whole time, fully aware that Benjamin's basically fine on his own. I make a point out of watching him like a hawk, but sticking like glue to J...at least when Benjamin starts to jet somewhere else on his own, he always yells to me where he's going. My worry is always with J, because I've never seen a toddler move so fast. I know my friends (and mother in law) are reading this and nodding their heads in agreement.:)
I bend down to put the board books J has tossed all over the floor back into the bin, while he moves over to the dress up area. But when I look up (oh, maybe a fraction of a second later), I can't see him. I do a cursory glance around me, but still don't see him...so I locate Benjamin and ask him to stay put for a sec.
He looks up from his shopping cart, where he's arranging fake boxes of cereal and rice while donning a purple boa...and says, "Wha, Mommaaaayy?"
Yeah.
So I head off to look for J.
I see a friend--the library kind, where you don't know eachother's names, but you recognize one another's frazzled face, dirty ponytail and workout clothes. She (I now know her name is Ellen) asks if I'm missing my little guy, and as I say "yes", I then realize how nervous I am, because my voice scratches and my forehead begins to sweat. She offers to help me look for him...and as soon as I head out into the lower lobby area, by the elevators, I see him.
Reaching up for the elevator button, the door opening...and just as I get to him, he's stepping in and reaching for the inside controls of the elevator.
I snatch him and smother my face into his neck, breathing a HUGE, audible sigh of relief.
That was before I really lost him.
I walk back into the library and find B in the middle of a shopping transaction with a newfound pal, and tell him we're going to head over to the book area. Back behind the stacks, there's a little padded sitting area with pillows and small cushiony pieces of furniture the kids can climb all over....so I think this will be perfect for J.
When we get there, I see Ellen (my new friend, but mind you we're not on first name basis yet...that's to come) and she gives me a look of shared relief.
Still holding J, I say "Thanks so much...you wouldn't believe how fast this guy is."
She relates and starts telling me about her youngest daughter, meanwhile I put J down and watch him climb on the furniture. He steps between my legs and I do that classic reach back with one hand to feel their head behind you, while I keep talking...I look back and he's starting to pull books out of the shelf behind me.
This is when I say to her, "Here he goes...pulling out the books, his other favorite activity."
Friends? I think that statement, and the time I took with my eyes off of Jonny to say it....took...oh, maybe 2 SECONDS.
And I look back, no Jonny.
Shit.
"Here I go again!" I say, but with a laugh, because I know he can't be far in that miniscule amount of time...but when I look down the row of books, he's not there.
I look down another row, no Jonny.
I look further out and start scanning (nervously now) with my eyes...and don't see him. I start to walk kinda fast...and then faster...and everywhere I look, it's other kids. Other moms. Other hoodies, other jeans, other Crocs.
And then I move into that second or third phase of holy shit-ness and start to feel all tingly and lightheaded....but I'm practically running now. And Ellen is now helping me look (for the second time this morning), and our friend Heidi (Steph's neighbor), whom we had just ran into, is also helping us...and then, seeing my face, Miss Michelle joins in. And I summon a library worker, too...because after about two minutes, I'm scared as hell.
I don't want to go upstairs, for fear that he's downstairs...and I don't want to go down the hallways of offices outside the lower level kids' area, because I'm afraid that's when he'll appear by the elevators...I don't want to go anywhere, because all I want to do is freeze and watch for him.
And more than anything, I don't even want to think about him being outside...which, is entirely possible, because he knows how to open the doors.
Outside those doors are a busy street, strangers, a huge park, and--oh yes--a lake.
This may all seem melodramatic to you, friends. And in most cases, I'd readily admit to a little bit of the drama. I'm a bit notorious for it.
But none of this is exaggerated...I was scared beyond scared. My insides were burning and by the time I elicited help from the desk worker, I was in tears. When Miss Michelle asked me what was wrong, I could hardly talk...and when she asked me what he was wearing, I totally started to cry when I said "navy hoodie with white stripes, jeans, and bright green Crocs".
Every time I caught up with Heidi she had a desperate, apologetic look on her face when she asked me if I'd had any luck.
So after I combed the elevator area two more times and watched it open with a *ding*, empty, with no one in it....I started to run up the stairs...
Mind you, I did not once check on Benjamin this whole time. I think, by the grace of God, he just sensed I needed him to stay in one place, because when I went tearing through the area by the fish tank at one point, I saw him sitting on the "wave couch" pulling DVDs out of their cases.
That would for sure keep him happy.
So I run up the lobby stairs...and as I'm running up, leaving the kids' area, I start to feel, for the first time, truly hopeless. Because now I'm not even in the area where I lost him. I'm up in quiet-adult-land...which happens to be adjacent to the double glass doors leading out to freedom. I don't even want to think about the fact that he could have easily headed out the front door at this point. I practically throw myself through the front entrance to the upper level adult area (definitely channeling Lynette from Desperate Housewives at this point) and lock eyes with the first official looking person I see.
And she's sneering at me.
She says, over her glasses (but since this is a library story, let's say they were spectacles), "Are you looking for a toddler?"
.......Ohmygod....possible relief.
But not completely.
And P.S. Why is she looking at me that way?
Bitch.
"Yes!!!!" I say.
"Is he wearing green shoes?" she asks.
And I start to bawl.
Like a baby. She points down the open stairway inside the library area....and I go flying down the steps. She yells after me..."We found him up here, in the stacks, so I called Michelle up to get him..."
And even though I want to say "F you, lady, for even thinking about using that condescending tone with my freaked-out-scared-beyond-scared-ass right now!"....I manage to shout out a "Thank you!!!!!!"
That's when I land downstairs and see Miss Michelle walking towards me with a scared, red-faced and snot-nosed Jonny in her arms...and he practically jumps onto me when I reach my arms out.
And that's when I started crying so loud that people across the room in the computer area heard me. I know this, because when I was leaving the library later, one of them approached me and said she'd "been there before".
About a dozen random moms came up to me and offered the same kind of testimony and support...all the while, Miss Trish handing me kleenexes and hugging me, as I'm still hugging Jonny.
Benjamin is still, mind you, playing by the fish tank.
So, all was well.
I gathered myself best I could, and managed to get Benjamin and Jonathan both to sit with me for Miss Trish's class. And wouldn't you know, it was the first time they both actually danced and clapped together to the songs. And listened to the stories...and sat through it all.
This must have been God's way of giving me a chill pill.
By the time we left the library, I was reminded of the day I went into labor with Jonathan, right there in Panopolous Salon....all eyes, big like quarters, fixed on me as I left the building.
But I didn't care.
I was never so happy to have my boys in their carseats, buckled in...and on our way home for lunch.
On our way over there this morning, I'd been thinking in my mind about how stressed I am about our car, how it's so ready to be hit by the wrecking ball....and how we're going to deal with a car payment, etc.
But when I climbed in to our shitty-ass Explorer after this morning's harrowing experience, I was never so grateful to see it.
Or whatever.
You get the idea.
I'd still like to send it over the nearest cliff...but that's not really my point.
When I told the story to my mom over the phone later, she asked me, "What were you doing when he got away?"
And I answered, "Nothing. I was right with him...watching him. I turned my head for less than a second, right as I had my hand reached back, feeling the top of his head...and when I turned around, he was gone."
That's when she suggested we get him a leash.
And you know what?
I'm about to go Google one.
worst four minutes of my life? yup.
best hug from Jonny ever? definitely.
This morning, at the library, I lost Jonathan.
I didn't just lose sight of him for a few seconds, I actually lost him.
And if you are a mom, and this has ever happened to you...you know the to hell and back experience I've had today.
Nevermind that it didn't take place at the mall, an amusement park, or any such place of mass chaos.
EGR library on a Wednesday morning makes any of those places look like day care centers.
And at any rate, when you've lost your child, it doesn't matter where you are...it's just the worst, most dreadful, disorienting, bottom-falling-out feeling you could ever have.
So here's what happened:
I decide not to bring in the Maclaren this morning, since we're just going in and out for Storytime, and I know we won't be lingering too long...so no need to confine Jonathan. Plus, I had snacks in my purse.
We walk into the kid area, just outside Miss Trish's room, and the boys get busy playing...Benjamin at the kitchen/store area, and Jonathan at the magnetic board with letters...I'm basically at Jonny's heels the whole time, fully aware that Benjamin's basically fine on his own. I make a point out of watching him like a hawk, but sticking like glue to J...at least when Benjamin starts to jet somewhere else on his own, he always yells to me where he's going. My worry is always with J, because I've never seen a toddler move so fast. I know my friends (and mother in law) are reading this and nodding their heads in agreement.:)
I bend down to put the board books J has tossed all over the floor back into the bin, while he moves over to the dress up area. But when I look up (oh, maybe a fraction of a second later), I can't see him. I do a cursory glance around me, but still don't see him...so I locate Benjamin and ask him to stay put for a sec.
He looks up from his shopping cart, where he's arranging fake boxes of cereal and rice while donning a purple boa...and says, "Wha, Mommaaaayy?"
Yeah.
So I head off to look for J.
I see a friend--the library kind, where you don't know eachother's names, but you recognize one another's frazzled face, dirty ponytail and workout clothes. She (I now know her name is Ellen) asks if I'm missing my little guy, and as I say "yes", I then realize how nervous I am, because my voice scratches and my forehead begins to sweat. She offers to help me look for him...and as soon as I head out into the lower lobby area, by the elevators, I see him.
Reaching up for the elevator button, the door opening...and just as I get to him, he's stepping in and reaching for the inside controls of the elevator.
I snatch him and smother my face into his neck, breathing a HUGE, audible sigh of relief.
That was before I really lost him.
I walk back into the library and find B in the middle of a shopping transaction with a newfound pal, and tell him we're going to head over to the book area. Back behind the stacks, there's a little padded sitting area with pillows and small cushiony pieces of furniture the kids can climb all over....so I think this will be perfect for J.
When we get there, I see Ellen (my new friend, but mind you we're not on first name basis yet...that's to come) and she gives me a look of shared relief.
Still holding J, I say "Thanks so much...you wouldn't believe how fast this guy is."
She relates and starts telling me about her youngest daughter, meanwhile I put J down and watch him climb on the furniture. He steps between my legs and I do that classic reach back with one hand to feel their head behind you, while I keep talking...I look back and he's starting to pull books out of the shelf behind me.
This is when I say to her, "Here he goes...pulling out the books, his other favorite activity."
Friends? I think that statement, and the time I took with my eyes off of Jonny to say it....took...oh, maybe 2 SECONDS.
And I look back, no Jonny.
Shit.
"Here I go again!" I say, but with a laugh, because I know he can't be far in that miniscule amount of time...but when I look down the row of books, he's not there.
I look down another row, no Jonny.
I look further out and start scanning (nervously now) with my eyes...and don't see him. I start to walk kinda fast...and then faster...and everywhere I look, it's other kids. Other moms. Other hoodies, other jeans, other Crocs.
And then I move into that second or third phase of holy shit-ness and start to feel all tingly and lightheaded....but I'm practically running now. And Ellen is now helping me look (for the second time this morning), and our friend Heidi (Steph's neighbor), whom we had just ran into, is also helping us...and then, seeing my face, Miss Michelle joins in. And I summon a library worker, too...because after about two minutes, I'm scared as hell.
I don't want to go upstairs, for fear that he's downstairs...and I don't want to go down the hallways of offices outside the lower level kids' area, because I'm afraid that's when he'll appear by the elevators...I don't want to go anywhere, because all I want to do is freeze and watch for him.
And more than anything, I don't even want to think about him being outside...which, is entirely possible, because he knows how to open the doors.
Outside those doors are a busy street, strangers, a huge park, and--oh yes--a lake.
This may all seem melodramatic to you, friends. And in most cases, I'd readily admit to a little bit of the drama. I'm a bit notorious for it.
But none of this is exaggerated...I was scared beyond scared. My insides were burning and by the time I elicited help from the desk worker, I was in tears. When Miss Michelle asked me what was wrong, I could hardly talk...and when she asked me what he was wearing, I totally started to cry when I said "navy hoodie with white stripes, jeans, and bright green Crocs".
Every time I caught up with Heidi she had a desperate, apologetic look on her face when she asked me if I'd had any luck.
So after I combed the elevator area two more times and watched it open with a *ding*, empty, with no one in it....I started to run up the stairs...
Mind you, I did not once check on Benjamin this whole time. I think, by the grace of God, he just sensed I needed him to stay in one place, because when I went tearing through the area by the fish tank at one point, I saw him sitting on the "wave couch" pulling DVDs out of their cases.
That would for sure keep him happy.
So I run up the lobby stairs...and as I'm running up, leaving the kids' area, I start to feel, for the first time, truly hopeless. Because now I'm not even in the area where I lost him. I'm up in quiet-adult-land...which happens to be adjacent to the double glass doors leading out to freedom. I don't even want to think about the fact that he could have easily headed out the front door at this point. I practically throw myself through the front entrance to the upper level adult area (definitely channeling Lynette from Desperate Housewives at this point) and lock eyes with the first official looking person I see.
And she's sneering at me.
She says, over her glasses (but since this is a library story, let's say they were spectacles), "Are you looking for a toddler?"
.......Ohmygod....possible relief.
But not completely.
And P.S. Why is she looking at me that way?
Bitch.
"Yes!!!!" I say.
"Is he wearing green shoes?" she asks.
And I start to bawl.
Like a baby. She points down the open stairway inside the library area....and I go flying down the steps. She yells after me..."We found him up here, in the stacks, so I called Michelle up to get him..."
And even though I want to say "F you, lady, for even thinking about using that condescending tone with my freaked-out-scared-beyond-scared-ass right now!"....I manage to shout out a "Thank you!!!!!!"
That's when I land downstairs and see Miss Michelle walking towards me with a scared, red-faced and snot-nosed Jonny in her arms...and he practically jumps onto me when I reach my arms out.
And that's when I started crying so loud that people across the room in the computer area heard me. I know this, because when I was leaving the library later, one of them approached me and said she'd "been there before".
About a dozen random moms came up to me and offered the same kind of testimony and support...all the while, Miss Trish handing me kleenexes and hugging me, as I'm still hugging Jonny.
Benjamin is still, mind you, playing by the fish tank.
So, all was well.
I gathered myself best I could, and managed to get Benjamin and Jonathan both to sit with me for Miss Trish's class. And wouldn't you know, it was the first time they both actually danced and clapped together to the songs. And listened to the stories...and sat through it all.
This must have been God's way of giving me a chill pill.
By the time we left the library, I was reminded of the day I went into labor with Jonathan, right there in Panopolous Salon....all eyes, big like quarters, fixed on me as I left the building.
But I didn't care.
I was never so happy to have my boys in their carseats, buckled in...and on our way home for lunch.
On our way over there this morning, I'd been thinking in my mind about how stressed I am about our car, how it's so ready to be hit by the wrecking ball....and how we're going to deal with a car payment, etc.
But when I climbed in to our shitty-ass Explorer after this morning's harrowing experience, I was never so grateful to see it.
Or whatever.
You get the idea.
I'd still like to send it over the nearest cliff...but that's not really my point.
When I told the story to my mom over the phone later, she asked me, "What were you doing when he got away?"
And I answered, "Nothing. I was right with him...watching him. I turned my head for less than a second, right as I had my hand reached back, feeling the top of his head...and when I turned around, he was gone."
That's when she suggested we get him a leash.
And you know what?
I'm about to go Google one.
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Alright already...
For some reason unknown to me, I've been anti-blog lately.
Maybe it's because I've been too wrapped up in other things to have time for it, which has been true on some days. But I've also been really enjoying my book lately, so any random time I have where I'm not:
*chasing/playing with boys
*doing dishes
*dirtying dishes
*at the MAC
*outside
*doing laundry (which never gets put away...yikes...)
*watching The Bachelorette, ususally DVRed
...I'm reading The Kite Runner. No one will remember this, but I need to own up to the fact that I STARTED this book last summer. And like with most books, it wasn't the ridalin to my ADD in the first few pages, so it took some time to get into...in my case, a whole year.
Anyway, sometime a few months ago I started chipping away at it...a chapter here, a chapter there...and then, about a week ago, I got way involved. And I finished it last night.
WHAT an incredible story.
Leared so much that I never knew or even understood about Afghani culture...but on top of it all, it made me appreciate my life so much more than I already did.
After I finished it at midnight last night, I went upstairs and crawled into bed next to Benjamin...who barely moved...but when I hugged him and said, real quietly (I can't say "whispered" here because it just feels to creepy) "I love you, bud..."
He fidgeted the tiniest bit, and I kid you not---eyes closed, arms wrapped around his bunny and blanket...and hairline all sweaty (LOVE THAT)...he actually mumbled "I love you, too, Mommy".
Killed me.
There's a part in the story where the main character learns that his mother, who died during childbirth...once said, while pregnant with him that she was "profoundly happy"...because with so much happiness, surely something will be taken from her.
I don't like to admit to this kind of foreboding, but I swear...it's how I feel so often with my boys. It's as though there's so much love for them, it hurts to have it. I simply cannot stand how precious they are.
And I know most people feel this way about their kids, I really do...it's just my way of expressing it. I'm also acuteley aware of how ridiculously sentimental I am...I watch them crawl all over eachother in Benjamin's bed and giggle...and climb the toys at the park...and I feel like I want to freeze-frame this moment in time. They are such amazing little creatures.
I'm typing this, friends...and not two seconds ago, Benjamin calls to me from the family room, where he's **shocker** lining his cars up on the coffee table.
"Mommaayy!" (that's how he pronounces it, seriously)
"Yeah, bud?" I say, passively, as I type away...
"I gotta booger!"
Sweet.
Love this life, I swear.
Love it inside and out...and a thousand times over.
Maybe it's because I've been too wrapped up in other things to have time for it, which has been true on some days. But I've also been really enjoying my book lately, so any random time I have where I'm not:
*chasing/playing with boys
*doing dishes
*dirtying dishes
*at the MAC
*outside
*doing laundry (which never gets put away...yikes...)
*watching The Bachelorette, ususally DVRed
...I'm reading The Kite Runner. No one will remember this, but I need to own up to the fact that I STARTED this book last summer. And like with most books, it wasn't the ridalin to my ADD in the first few pages, so it took some time to get into...in my case, a whole year.
Anyway, sometime a few months ago I started chipping away at it...a chapter here, a chapter there...and then, about a week ago, I got way involved. And I finished it last night.
WHAT an incredible story.
Leared so much that I never knew or even understood about Afghani culture...but on top of it all, it made me appreciate my life so much more than I already did.
After I finished it at midnight last night, I went upstairs and crawled into bed next to Benjamin...who barely moved...but when I hugged him and said, real quietly (I can't say "whispered" here because it just feels to creepy) "I love you, bud..."
He fidgeted the tiniest bit, and I kid you not---eyes closed, arms wrapped around his bunny and blanket...and hairline all sweaty (LOVE THAT)...he actually mumbled "I love you, too, Mommy".
Killed me.
There's a part in the story where the main character learns that his mother, who died during childbirth...once said, while pregnant with him that she was "profoundly happy"...because with so much happiness, surely something will be taken from her.
I don't like to admit to this kind of foreboding, but I swear...it's how I feel so often with my boys. It's as though there's so much love for them, it hurts to have it. I simply cannot stand how precious they are.
And I know most people feel this way about their kids, I really do...it's just my way of expressing it. I'm also acuteley aware of how ridiculously sentimental I am...I watch them crawl all over eachother in Benjamin's bed and giggle...and climb the toys at the park...and I feel like I want to freeze-frame this moment in time. They are such amazing little creatures.
I'm typing this, friends...and not two seconds ago, Benjamin calls to me from the family room, where he's **shocker** lining his cars up on the coffee table.
"Mommaayy!" (that's how he pronounces it, seriously)
"Yeah, bud?" I say, passively, as I type away...
"I gotta booger!"
Sweet.
Love this life, I swear.
Love it inside and out...and a thousand times over.
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
No excuses...
I've been seriously delinquent with my blog the last week...but all for good cause.
And also for no good cause at all.
I think it just happens from time to time...
We had a great weekend with Dave and Kathy here Sat. and Sunday...enjoyed one of our best Friday evenings on Santa Cruz to date with Megan and Brian...had fun at Festival (I think this magically becomes more than just a white-trash-souvlaki-fest once you have kids...)...and even enjoyed Lucy C's spectacular bday extravaganza on Sunday.
Benjamin: "This is just the best party evvvverrr!"
He said this to me, to Sarah, anyone who would listen, really...and of course, to Lucy.
I'll upload some pics later, but for now I'm one crampy bitch.
Total period rage and I'm taking it out on my fridge.
Not good, friends...not good.
And also for no good cause at all.
I think it just happens from time to time...
We had a great weekend with Dave and Kathy here Sat. and Sunday...enjoyed one of our best Friday evenings on Santa Cruz to date with Megan and Brian...had fun at Festival (I think this magically becomes more than just a white-trash-souvlaki-fest once you have kids...)...and even enjoyed Lucy C's spectacular bday extravaganza on Sunday.
Benjamin: "This is just the best party evvvverrr!"
He said this to me, to Sarah, anyone who would listen, really...and of course, to Lucy.
I'll upload some pics later, but for now I'm one crampy bitch.
Total period rage and I'm taking it out on my fridge.
Not good, friends...not good.
Monday, June 2, 2008
Where did summer go?
This is what we usually say around late August....NOT early June.
But I'm sure many will appreciate where I'm coming from...my calendar.
We Richards are not socialites or jet-setters (ok, maybe we like a party...), but holy cannoli, Batman...our summer is cooked. The past few weekends have been sheer bliss, with trips to the park, "The J-J", endless BBQs with neighbors, moments (when Jonathan's asleep) where we actually sit on the front step and watch Benjamin play...usually with an Oberon.
And yesterday was no exception. It was just one of those perfect Sundays in the summer...for so many reasons. I think I'll skip the narrative here, because sometimes I'm afraid this blog reads like a brochure for "life in EGR"...on crack.
Anyway, after we finished watching our DVRed Meet the Press last night...yeah, we're losers...Brian and I started talking about what a great day it had been....and an even better weekend. And for posterity's sake, I will post some pics sometime real soon.
But we were all "wow, isn't summer great...even when we think we have nothing going on, so much fun seems to happen...blah, blah, blah...".
And then I broke out the calendar this morning, and it seems we have about 3 of these "nothing going on" weekends for the rest of the summer.
Fuckity-fuck.
And don't get me wrong...our reasons for being busy on the in-between are great, and we wouldn't trade the plans we have with friends and family for anything. We've just been drunk on our neighborhood the past few weekends, is all.:)
I guess this means we're going to just have to start thinking of our summer not in terms of weekends and the plans we have(which is so tempting, isn't it?)...but just in general. With our boys, our life, and of course...some Oberon.
Here's to Summer 2008!
But I'm sure many will appreciate where I'm coming from...my calendar.
We Richards are not socialites or jet-setters (ok, maybe we like a party...), but holy cannoli, Batman...our summer is cooked. The past few weekends have been sheer bliss, with trips to the park, "The J-J", endless BBQs with neighbors, moments (when Jonathan's asleep) where we actually sit on the front step and watch Benjamin play...usually with an Oberon.
And yesterday was no exception. It was just one of those perfect Sundays in the summer...for so many reasons. I think I'll skip the narrative here, because sometimes I'm afraid this blog reads like a brochure for "life in EGR"...on crack.
Anyway, after we finished watching our DVRed Meet the Press last night...yeah, we're losers...Brian and I started talking about what a great day it had been....and an even better weekend. And for posterity's sake, I will post some pics sometime real soon.
But we were all "wow, isn't summer great...even when we think we have nothing going on, so much fun seems to happen...blah, blah, blah...".
And then I broke out the calendar this morning, and it seems we have about 3 of these "nothing going on" weekends for the rest of the summer.
Fuckity-fuck.
And don't get me wrong...our reasons for being busy on the in-between are great, and we wouldn't trade the plans we have with friends and family for anything. We've just been drunk on our neighborhood the past few weekends, is all.:)
I guess this means we're going to just have to start thinking of our summer not in terms of weekends and the plans we have(which is so tempting, isn't it?)...but just in general. With our boys, our life, and of course...some Oberon.
Here's to Summer 2008!
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