Here ya go, honey.

 

It's been a rough couple of weeks for Daughter 1.  We ordered her two shirts that she desperately wanted and when they came in, they were my size. Okay, okay (no pun intended), it was probably because I accidently clicked my size without thinking, but what can I say? I've had a lot on my mind. But, this little mistake made us have to frantically order the right sized shirts and hope they got her in time. Good news? They did. Bad news? We still stressed about it.

Then, we got the call from school that the two classes she was most looking forward to, Orchestra and Publications, were scheduled for the same hour of the day. She would have to make a decision. Her decision was to, sadly, give up Orchestra. Her rationalization was that eventually, if she went to law school in order to go into the FBI, she'd need to have writing skills ... and writing is her passion. So, with a sad heart, she gave up her cello.

And finally, as she flipped through the pictures on my phone, she decided that I didn't love her nearly as much as I love her sister because I had more pictures of her sister on the big water slide and had no pictures of her on the big water slide.

"Plus," she said, "You haven't blogged about me in a long time."

"First?" I said, "I do have pictures of you. This one is of you."

 

"How can you tell?" she challenged.

"Because of the order of pictures that I took."

"Well, you still haven't blogged about me much."

"Do you want me to blog about what you said when you got off the slide?"
 

"MOMMA!"

"Well, do you?"

"I don't care."

So, what'd she say? When she got off the slide, she walked over to me and said, "Oh my gah, Momma. I just tooted and water came out."

See? I blog about both of my kiddos.

Lessons From The Water Park

The last day of school, Daughter 2 won a pass for six people to our local water park. Each girl picked a friend and we set out for a day of fun.

Well, the word fun is relative, right?

I'm a 44-year-old momma. The water park doesn't hold the same mystic it used to hold for me when I was say ... much younger. Just willing myself to wear my skirted bathing suit out in public where the general public could judge me, well, it just wasn't shouting fun to me. But, I love my girls and I skirted up and went.

While I lay in the shade (skin cancer is scary, yo), I contemplated the many lessons the water park had taught me since I had become a momma.

1. I am not the best momma out there. I sat next to a woman who dragged her kids out of the pool every thirty minutes to reapply. Then they had to sit there and drink their water to stay hydrated. And before they could go back in, she made them go to the bathroom and wash their hands. She did this all with a smile. She also had dark circles under her eyes and looked like she hadn't slept since the turn of the century, but you could tell she had this mothering thing down pat, as dictated by all the parenting magazines.

2. I am not the worst momma out there. I could be all catty and judgmental without knowing why that one momma was dressed inappropriately for a water park and stayed on her phone for a full forty-five minutes while her preschool aged child flitted from one adult to another asking for help with her arm floaties and sunscreen and such. But, I won't be that way. Seriously. Who am I to judge? I mean, she could have been participating in a job interview. You know, a job interview that ended with, "Come over after she's in bed, and I'll crack you like a walnut between my thighs." Whatever that means.

3. There are a lot of people at water parks who never use the bathroom. That can only mean one thing: They pee in the pool. I, on the other hand, went to the bathroom. It was disgusting. Related? I got in the pool just once.

4. Being proud of my grey hair can be disastrous. Before we left the house, I grabbed a hat and started to pull my hair underneath it. Then, I thought twice about it. I am growing out my grey hair, and I've actually gotten more compliments about it than I have any other hair style or color I've had in the past ten years. I tossed that hat back on the rack and walked out the door. Turns out, that I wear a hat at the water park not to hide my grey, but to shade my eyes. I made do, though.

5. I will go to the water park exactly one week before I get a new pedicure. I don't schedule it like that or anything. It just happens.

6. There will be that one kid. Every single time we go to the water park, there will be that one kid who pukes or poops and the whole park will close down. This will force us to get a pass to go across town to the other swimming pool that is gigantically bigger but doesn't have the same toys and rides.

7. Even without toys and rides, my kids and their friends will make their own fun. And watching them have fun makes me rethink number 1 on this list. Not for long, but long enough to make me smile.

Let It Go ... Not The Song

"I don't like talking to people," D1 said as we got into the car to make our way to the STATE university for her week-long Summer Science Academy. 

"I know," I nodded. "Neither do I most of the time, but I do it anyway."

We had this conversation a dozen times on our way there.

And just before I left her for the week, we had that conversation again. 

And she hugged me like she used to hug me before she got all cool and teenagery and stuff. 

And I came this -><- a="" an="" baby="" back="" campus="" cannot="" car="" close="" et="" flippin="" for="" i="" in="" leave="" my="" on="" p="" saying="" the="" to="" university="" week.="" whole="">

But I didn't. 

I snapped a picture of her being teenagery instead and walked her to the commons where she said, "I don't like talking to new people." I nodded.  Because I couldn't talk, I nodded.

Then I left her with a couple of other girls and a college mentor where they began discussing and cussing The Fault in Our Stars, both the book and the movie.

I choked back tears and threatened the lump in my throat to stay where it was as I waited for the elevator. If I could just get on the elevator and make my way down the four flights, I'd be good.

I stepped into the elevator and pressed 1. Then I bit my lip and told myself to pull it together. I could still hear the group talking about how sweet Gus and Hazel were and how hard they cried when he just wasn't in the movie/book anymore.

And then I pressed 1 again, but I wasn't moving.

And I pressed it again and again and again. When it was clear after thirty-two presses that I wasn't moving, I pressed the door open button. Nothing. I pressed it repeatedly a dozen times. Nothing. I pressed every button to no avail. I ran my hand down the button area ala Buddy The Elf and got nothing. I even pressed the alarm. It made a lame ding, ding, ding sound. I barely even heard it. 

Finally, I called the campus help line. Since it was Sunday, I got an automated system that promptly hung up on me. Twice. I pressed the elevator help button and got this sound: Wah Wah Wah. So, I pulled the director's number from my back pocket and called her. Right after she promised to get me out, the electricity went out.

So, I Instagrammed it. 

I also took a selfie (which showed just how black it was), and I texted everyone I know. 

This is the response from my hubby who was still at D2's softball tournament (they won, BTW):

So much for concern from the father of the baby I was abandoning at summer camp!

Finally, twenty minutes later, a campus policeman showed up and struggled at manually opening the door. I would have helped him, but I was in the middle of a text to my friend, Denise. 

I bolted down the stairs and sped away. I texted D1 to take the stairs the whole week. And then I drove away. I let my baby and her mandatory-stair-climbing dorm go. 

When we were making summer plans, we had inadvertently scheduled D1 and D2 for camp at the same time. Initially, I was worried. Then I was excited. Some alone time for momma? Yes. I just had no idea it would come so quickly ... or in hot, dark elevator. 

Late-Night Thoughts On Snow Days

I'll admit it. I love me a good snow day. But I also love summer days as well. That's why, tonight, as I watch the late-night weather bringing me reports of inches and inches of snow overnight and we contemplate the possibility of a snow day tomorrow, I have many thoughts running through my head.

I'm halfway through Gone Girl. Yeah, yeah, yeah. I'm the last reader in the world to get through this book. I've attempted it six other times. I could never make it to this point. Today, I hit that point where I want to finish it. If we had a snow day, I could finish reading Gone Girl.

I'm about two-thirds of the way through my fourth book in the TMI Mom series, Girlfriends. I have the remaining chapters outlined, and the words are in my head. If we had a snow day, I could bang out a big portion of the rest of that book. 

Since about a month ago, I haven't slept in. My body loves to sleep late. I function better when I can wake up after nine a.m.. I'm a nicer person and can get more accomplished. If we had a snow day, I'd be so nice everyone would love being around me. 

On the other hand ...

The Daughters can barely be nice to each other when they get home from school--a snow day might push us all over the edge where tequila is poured over our morning cereal.

In late May, early June, quite possibly on the fourth of July, when the weather is nice, and we want to be outside reading books and playing in the pool, we'll still be in school because Old Man Winter went bats#!+ crazy.

Either way, I can tell you this much: Imma have to do laundry because Momma needs a clean pair of panties. 

Five For Friday: Five Things I've Learned So Far This Summer

The summer is essentially half over and it's been very educational to say the least. Here are five things I've learned so far this summer:

Five For Friday: My Summer Bucket List

Today is the first day of summer. I have, however, been enjoying summer for almost a month now. Since it's officially summer, though, I believe it's time I got to work on my summer bucket list. These are five things I will do this summer.