Dog Days of Summer

I had plans for yesterday. We were going to have fun, Fun, FUN! My really really good, crazy, funny friend from High School but we became better friends after we were both married and the hubby's happened to be in the Marines and then we ended up living in the same neighborhood, Amanda invited us over to her dad's place for the afternoon. She and her husband are stationed in Ohio (oh, the agony...just kidding Oma and Teresa) and she came back for a six week visit while DH is in Djibouti, Africa. Her dad's place has a pool and dad was going to cook for us. So, this may not seem like a huge deal but pool + kids = fun and exhaustion for children = happy momma. Also, I don't think I've actually cooked for myself more than maybe six times since Bill left at the end of February. What am I eating? I don't honestly know. Cereal? Frozen dinners? Ben & Jerry's? Besides, Amanda's dad is an awesome cook. Gotta love that. I'm not skinny because I don't like to eat. I'm skinny because I'm too lazy to actually prepare food. That, and because I've actually inherited my mom's high metabolism. Oh, shoot me. Can't be helped. Anyway, we didn't even get there until four since Princess Leah took an extra long nap yesterday. This, I thought, would be perfect. She should have slept long enough that she wouldn't be tired while we were out there. When she's tired, she wants to nurse. If she's not attached to me, then she has her pacifier in her mouth and her hand is stuck down my shirt. This is fine when we're at home, but in mixed company it's kind of awkward. Trey hadn't napped but it takes a good thirty minutes to get out there so I hoped he'd sleep in the car. "I don't wanna sleep in the car, Momma. I don't want to!" Ok fine. He's gone a day or two without a nap before. He should be ok.

We go to the pool almost immediately after we arrive. The last time I took the kids swimming, Trey stayed on the steps even though he donned a life vest. The only time he wasn't grounded to those cement lifesavers was when I dragged him out into the water. Even then he held on for dear life, sure that he would drown. Leah stayed in her little blow up yacht, happy as a clam. Children never repeat their actions. Unless it's one to drive you insane. Then they'll do it until they move out. I know this, because I still do things like that to my mom. Trey wanted to leap into the water. Every single time. "Watch this! Look at me!" Leah wanted nothing to do with her luxury liner and wanted to be in a horizontal position, held by either me or Amanda while she mock swam around the pool. After thirty minutes we were both tired and had to get out or our arms would fall off. Can't drive home without arms. I've tried.

Without spewing all of the nitty gritty repetitive, mind numbing details of the rest of the evening, let me just say that my children are magnets for disaster. Leah hit her head at least four times while we were there. There's not an unreasonable amount of furniture, or a gas leak in the house or anything like that. She just continued to lose her balance and happened to do so where there was furniture waiting to kiss her head. Trey would not leave the light switches alone. He will find any light switch anywhere and mess with it until he figures out what it goes to. He also talked incessantly about the fans. The ceiling fan, the standing fan, the desk fan. OH MY GOSH, enough already! Amanda's dog-sister (it's her dad's dog....get it?) didn't quite know what to make of my kids. Trey is a boy. An almost four year old boy. He's loud. He's active. He loves animals. He got the dog riled up and the dog nipped him in the leg. No blood, but lots of drama. Dog goes to the crate. Dog comes out of the crate. We eat dinner. Trey is eating corn on the cob and an avocado. Don't ask. The kid will only eat corn if it's still on the cob, not loose, and he would eat avocados every day if I let him. For one, they're too high in fat, and two, they're too dang expensive. Leah is sitting in my lap so I'm trying to eat while not dripping my food on her head. She's grabbing for the knife on my plate so my plate ends up being about 12 inches from me and I have a grabby baby, long distance eating, and the dog is under the table waiting for something to fall. Finally, Leah gets to the point where she can be put down without crying and she's hanging onto one of the chairs. The dog thinks she's in danger, grabs the end of her shirt and accidentally pokes her in the side with one of her teeth. More crying, more drama, more dog crates. No blood. Red skin and a little divot but everyone's ok. Nine pm and it's time to go. The kids crash out in the car. Unbuckle Leah from her seat and take her upstairs and put her to bed, hoping she won't wake up. Run back downstairs, outside, unbuckle Trey and w.a.l.k. upstairs with all 42 pounds of him. Don't brush his teeth, don't tell him a story, don't sing him a song. Go back downstairs and get the things out of the car and lock everything up. Leah's awake. The car ride was just long enough for her to wake up. Nurse her some more (this child is addicted to the boob) and get her back into bed.

Ten pm. I'm done. Did we have fun? I can't remember. I'm too tired.



P.S. Mom: Rabbit, Rabbit, Rabbit!!!