and my youngest whipper snapper has just 21 days and nine hours until she Montessori’s herself up for half day. Can ya tell, I'm just a wee bit excited to have three whole hours completely to myself after six long years? Ahhh..numbers. Sweet numbers. It is the little things in life, folks. Well, no, not really, I guess. Ultimately, it would be a million dollar lotto win and a villa on Lake Como that would make it all complete, but I'll just have to settle for my five blissful mornings. All alone. At the gym..at Target..at a bar..hey, wait a minute..at wherever the frick I want to be! Yeehaw and Hallelujah. It's been a long time coming. Calgon is finally showing me a little love and taking me away. Overall, the dog days of 2009 were well spent and I think my babies had a good one. We did some dollar movies, princess ballet camp, a nice Gulf Shores va-cay, some Jon and Kate reruns until they split up and turned into white trash...even had some Chinese acrobatic Branson glitz (that place may get seven million visitors a year but I still say it needs a little less Jim Stafford and a little more hooch and gambling before I'd be motivated to visit again) and quite a few sweaty, warm cheese sandwich days spent at the park. My fave season of the orange leaves is just around the corner, and I think this year-around school schedule is going to suit Mama just fine. For all us, boozy, worn out, middle-aged mommies who just can't keep up the razzle dazzle river dance of entertaining two short spastic ferret people for three long stretching months, it seems a good fit and the only way to go. Of course, it will take a while to find our rhythm, but between all the screaming, caffeine, bickering over fashion and the haulage of two rug rats, to two different schools, seven miles apart with two 8am call times....we'll find our way through the smoke, eventually. Just stay low to the floor and cover your mouth, kids.
Yes, we've laughed a little, we've cried a little and then we broke our arm. That was about the biggest ta-doo of our solstice siesta. My T. just got her cast off after an "awful long, long time of days with no swimming, Mama!"
I had promised the little tyke, I'd let her dunk in the pool right after its said removal, and that's just what we did. I'd never seen a poor kid so liberated. That newly healed summer sausage limb was flapping and splashing like a hooked eel. At the end of the day, she practically had a Sybil breakdown when I told her it was time to wrap up shop and head home. After a half bottle of Dawn, I still can't get the smell off of her arm though. Oy. The nurse asked me if I wanted to keep the cast. Uh..right. That's just what my memory box needs..a purple, lady bugged, moldy, stank machine that's gonna cost me a five hundred dollar co-pay. Good times. I realize now that the choice I made to let her play Pocahontas with her sissy in the dirt pile down the street was not a wise one. On a more fragrant note though, my W. got her first bike this glorious ete and could not have looked cuter- all Pink Derbied up in her tutu, helmet and pads. As my old pal, Kim, says, "Precious and able to kick your ass".
A couple of good attributes for all us gals, right? And a big no thank you goes out to my clearance special, five dollar training wheels as my darling managed to careen over the sidewalk, ricochet off of the neighbor's mailbox and end up in a Barbie glam heap on the street..all within the first five minutes of mounting the thing, mind you. Okay, so maybe I won't have a sporty Lance Armstrong in my motherly future. As long as she racks up a PhD in neuro-science, that will suit me just fine. Our wild and crazy summer is coming to a nice close on a twelve year anniversary overnighter with the hub to see my beloved Kathy Griffin. Nothing like an open air venue, foul language and Olsen twin jokes to get you chuckling just in time for Fall. This is only the second 'sleepover' for Dad and I and we couldn't be jollier about it. Of course, it is coinciding with Mama's dry-out...so that part of it's not so fun. Yes, you read it right. I am five sober weeks in and counting through my Big Cleanse. Yep, I have chosen to take the high road, friends. Not as in drunk but as in ridding my precious temple of a body of all sulphites and impurities. Only the gym, Soy Joys and Perrier for me. This old gal is tee-totally determined to get rid of the end table she's had on her backside for the last year...re-energizing both body and carb-stuffing soul. And while I'm at it, I even plan on picking myself up a Pointer Sis-ta new attitude. Oh, yeah, it's high time for some me time. This manic mama is all about re-focusing, de-stressing and armoring herself up for battle because between my hormones and the Walmart greeters, life can be pretty damn hairy. Yesiree, boys and girls, flash forward in a couple of months...the only muffin top I'm gonna have is the one I eat for breakfast.
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