Part One: Impromptu Dance/Tea Part-ay

I don't like leaving the day on a bad note. 

Let me try again with an intro to a little celebration we had this morning.  We were celebrating Daddy's day off and Mommy's morning in with Abby.

Seemed like the perfect excuse to invite some friends to tea.

where fancy scarves were donned by all the ladies.

And only the finest jewelry could be seen.

 

Everyone had assigned seats.

 And 37 year olds were scolded by their daughters for their bawdy attire.

 

More pictures to come later but right now I'd like to go join the soccer game going on in our front yard.  

Perhaps The Daddy will be distracted by my leopard print tutu.

Perhaps I should worry if he is.

Treats and One Trick

So many updates to give you, so little time.  Abby's still sick, Grayson's struggling to get rid of his yuck for good and I'm somewhere in between.  Such is life with little preschooler germ magnets.

I'll start with the Halloween update first.  Then, if time and children allow, I will try to tell/show you about Grayson's Max & Ruby trap.  Let's just say I was almost a little surprised to wake up and find they were not wound up in the soft snuggly nest of yarn, fast asleep.

This Halloween was boatloads better than last Halloween.  Last Halloween was spent with me toting the children from house to house solo because Andy and 4 pieces of his largest suitcases had caught a plane to Bahrain just hours before.  It's been one year since Andy left on his deployment.  It's been five months since his return.  I'll take a fever over Skype any day of the week.

Oh, but the one trick part of this Halloween?  Because we weren't going to be home, I left out a bowl with candy in it on our front porch.  In my last minute fever haze, I chose the nicest prettiest (most favoritest) mixing bowl to hold the candy.  My thought process was that it would withstand a strong wind and hungry little hands.  Also?  It was a beloved wedding gift from a bridesmaid.  Thug goes my heart.  Well, it was G-O-N-E gone when we returned.  The candy AND the bowl.  I know, not a very nice trick but I should've known better.

So, with no further blah blah blahs, here's our Halloween cute.  I went as an under the weather SAHM.  Original, isn't it?  Pretty convenient actually.  Gave me a reason to follow my little family around in a heated minivan.  Abby took refuge inside with me and an irritated TinkerBell Sadie on more than one occasion.  I'd say Abby's favorite parts were the lollipops and power windows.

Pokey

Yesterday Abby and I came upon an injured bird on our walk back home from the park.  It was a big bird, smaller than a crow but about the same size as a pigeon.

We watched her hobble against the curb, scuttling in front of us in a panic to flee.  She could only use her wings for balance and did so like a tipsy barfly the closer we got to her.  I thought she had a broken wing until I caught a peek of her neck:  pink, bloodied and in bad shape.  Something tried to "ate" her.

We sat with her a minute and she blinked up at me with fear that I might hurt her.

Abby and I walked home with a promise to get her some help somehow.

I had to pick up Grayson from preschool first but thought that was good because he could help me get her safely into a box without harm.

He held the box while I scooted her gently into it with the lid.  The whole thing went down without a hitch. Grayson said we should name her Pokey because she was so slow.  

Thank heavens we are not all named based on our behaviors. I'd be called "Circles," "Mugface," or "Sink Stander."


We then drove Pokey to an animal clinic that takes wildlife.  It was a few miles out of town and I didn't hear much from the box with Pokey in it so I was worried.

She was okay when we got there, thank goodness.


A vet tech came out to retrieve Pokey and thanked us.  We weren't allowed back even though all of us had eager faces and a Nikon.  They weren't biting.

We settled for taking far too many pictures in their front yard instead.

I called later to find out how Pokey was doing.  The secretary said she was a dove that had most likely been attacked by something.  Her lungs sounded bad so they gave her antibiotics and already released her back to my neighborhood.

All that worrying about Pokey who (hopefully) was eating grass seed from my neighbor's yard....far away from the black and white cat I spied slinking around on that exact same curb.

Suspect if you ask me.

(Where we found her, she's not there I already checked.)

Glue Gun

Found my hot glue gun, you guys!  We've been separated for a few years.  It still had feathers and slivers of blue crepe paper stuck to its nose from the last time we were together....a birthday party?  Costume?  Vegas?

 Years later, I come back to it, a mom and a woman who refuses to throw acorns away when her babies collect 74,290,892 of them on their first nature walk of the season.

(It will be a Christmas tree when it grows up.)

And yes, that is a McDonald's hot vanilla latte medium cup underneath, good of you to notice.

Happy Happy Fall.  Come glue with me.

10 Holes are Better than None

Oh you dirty bird, this is not that kind of blog.

The verdict from yesterday?  Mini golf.  I took the kids and I mini golfing for the first time.  Their first time ever, my second time since going en mass with friends in college while drinking cranberry vodka out of paper cups.  Oh my, how I miss those days.  Flannel shirts and hiking boots.  Pear Jam and Speedy Subs.  The Library and Fawley's Music Shop. Poli-Sci and Taming the Shrew.  Walking through cemeteries to feel alive and scribbling in notebooks about the years of those reduced to memories and weathered headstone font, impermanent despite itself. Waiting in between classes under a tree large enough to hug me from the sun and small enough to welcome a cute boy with black rimmed glasses.  I had a goth heart and a Pollyana face but I would never know the difference. Those beauteous days of yore... 

What were we talking about?

Right, kids and making memories, I'm back to 2011, dammit.

Imagine the kids' surprise when we didn't pull up to Target.  They were all, "Mommy, tell me where we are!  Is this the garden we went to with Miss Sara?  Is it?  IS IT?!?" 

Me:  Nope, not the garden.  Guess again.

The Grayson part of They:   The water park we went to with Daddy last Tuesday?  (It was weeks ago and a Saturday but you're four.)

Me:  Nope, and lower your standards please.  Guess again.

They:  JUST SAY IT MOMMY.

Me:  We are.........at the MINI GOLFING PLACE WAHOOOOOOO!

They:

Me:  Hello?

They:  Where are we? (smiling- despite the general lack of terminology)

Me:  C'mon, you'll love it.  Let's go check it out.

And check it out we did.

 Abby made it exactly 2 greens before she decided climbing trees was a better way to spend her time.

Grayson remained poised, however, and ever serious about learning the craft that is getting that little puckered golf ball into the hole in less than three strokes.



I told him he had four but three was his personal challenge because that child is his father's son when it comes to athleticism.  He doesn't know it yet, but not everyone has the hand-eye coordination of a hawk and the patience to steady yourself at age four.  I commend him for his prowess long before he even knows it exists.  Shame on me if this kid does not participate in an organized sport this fall.  He has already graduated from me as his coach and then some.

While playing our game, we got squeezed between a mom and her two boys in front, and a family of mixed generations behind us.  Somehow, on the grandmother's watch, the little girl from her party ended up taking a turn alongside Grayson and by the time we finished they were permanently up in front of us, behind the mom with two sons.

(Abby got a picture of "The Squeezers.")

 I was plenty annoyed but didn't see the point in making a fuss since Abby was scaling retaining walls and climbing the backs of plastic swans.  We were short timers anyway.


 (Another Abby Cam shot.  Apparently, I have a question.)





(Also?  I left my *%$# purse in the car.)


We made it about 10 holes when Sister Meltdown commenced.  She spotted a playground 900 yards away and had to be there right now let's go I want swing Mommy push me high Brubba please oh please can we go.

 (Abby's face after she learned we were leaving the golf portion of our day.)

We went.  Of course we went.  It was only 12:45.

The rest of the afternoon went way less choreographed but well nonetheless.

Kids made their own lunches.  This is new and it is grueling.  A two year old does not belong with a jar of peanut butter, ever. 

After lunch, I glanced at the clock just knowing it had to be almost 2:30.

It was 1:15. 

I grabbed a cold coffee, a smile, and a football as we all made our way to the backyard.  Abby interested herself in giving her baby girls a swim.



 Looks like a tragic afternoon to me but I'm trying to be open minded.

Grayson and I had SO much fun with Abby's pink football.  I think I was meant to be a linebacker.  Or a kicker.  Or some kind of person who throws footballs for a living because holy heavens, you guys, that is a good time.

There was even a football breeze, the kind that makes you hungry for Saturdays.

The autumn's on its way breeze you can smell right before people start hunting for pumpkins and Thanksgiving recipes.  There is nothing better than the fall.  Not even throwing a pink football to my kids in the backyard although that is a screaming second.

So, all in all, we had a DAY.  All our days are capital days it seems.  One afternoon, probably not too far off in the distance, I will look back on my time as their primary fun provider and wish for it all back.  For now?  I'm so freaking glad it's Wednesday.

 Wait, it's Tuesday, isn't it?