Wednesday, May 30, 2012

The switching of tracks between spring and summer,
has me yearning for country music, burgers, margarita's,
driving nowhere with the air off, fingertips flying through the wind of our rolled down windows.
Living.  Breathing.  Family.
Finally finding a balance between work and love.
No house cleaning.  Just sunshine.  Yard work, kiddie pools and sprinklers.
Little girl sundresses and Little boy flip flops.  And yes, even those GOD FORSAKEN
I'll keep this post as wordless (as is humanly possible for this jibber jabber-er.)
Simple quotes and pics from our Memorial weekend.
We ease in to the habits of summer.
 Our Friday night ice cream delivery.  And again, all I hear is Eddie Murphy's stand up.
Grace told me the other day I had a big butt and looked like Mrs. Potts from Beauty and the Beast.
Even better.  Found this one on the internets.
Really?  This is how my daughter sees me?
Wow.  I died a little inside.  I'm going to stop eating tomorrow.
But the son of my dear friend saw a "skinny" and "fit" woman running and said,
"Mommy!  It's Liz!"
{Tommy, I love you.}
"Mom?  Can we get a penguin?"
"Ah, no.  Move along."
Taking our first dips in Great Auntie and Uncles' pool.
Oh.  Yep.  Mrs. Potts.  I see it.
Wrapping up our first summer pool party with the BEST kind of snooze,
the "we've-been-in-the-pool-and-sun-for-five-hours-straight-and-are-now-in-dry-cozy-clothes," snooze.
Grace interrupted an early morning yoga DVD session with a, 
"Wow, Mom!  He is SOOOOO much better than you at that."
I love the way summer sunset's inch their way across our little park, casting shadows on green grass and bike's and shoes thrown askew.
 And on little boys with burnt cheeks.
Watching spring storms roll in,
and divide the night sky.
Pitter patter on the roof, as little babes nestle in for the night.
Waking up to weekend daddy breakfast's.
{So much better than mommy's.}
One-armed-baby-girl-presses while sipping Starbucks.
My husband's (best) response this weekend, to my nagging.
"Honey.  Will you PLEASE take down the old swing and put the new one up?"
"Yes, dear."
"I think you'll need a ladder.  And are you going to the store first to get a new swing?"
"I'm going to take the old swing down first.  That way if I die, I won't have to go to the store."  
Our own Memorial Day beach/campground, 
because #1.  We're too lazy to take these three camping.
 #2.  We love our bed.
 These whack-a-do's don't know any different.
{No idea.  Praying?  Fake pooping?  Most likely the latter.}
Jack sat at the end of our bed the other day, as I tried to quickly change clothes,
knowing his watchful and 'curious' gaze was on me.
(Which, yes, I really shouldn't be doing in front of our 7-year-old.  But, privacy?  Non-existent in this house.  I have stories.)
Anyway, he was giggling, watching me try to maneuver in to an ill-fitting top.
(Mrs. Potts.)
"Man.  I'm so glad that's not going to be me."
"Ah, excuse me?"
"Well?  You know.  The skin?  The wrinkles?  The moles?  GRACE is going to look just like you.  Ya' know.  'Cause she's a girl?  And you're a girl?  And she's going to grow up to look just like you?  NOT me!"  he chuckled.
Still dabbing at the wounds from Mrs. Potts.
My ego has been brought down SIGNIFICANTLY over the long weekend.
Maybe necessary.  But painful.  Not sure where to begin to rebuild.
Maybe the muffin top.
That's okay.
I've got Tuna.  
Who said today,
"Mom?  What the best fing (that's 3-year-old speak for 'thing,' not f-ing,) in the whole world?"
"What, Charlie?"
Who's apparently planning a road trip to IL.
We've got Sunday sunset drives.  And milkshakes.
Just making it under the aluminum canopy of a sweet diner down the road,
finding warmth, love and comfort in juicy cheeseburgers and salty fries.
Crispy onion rings and sticky picnic tables.
And our family.
 Happy summer.


BEES'NETTA said...

Ha! I love this post! Mrs. Potts....too funny.

gabbygrace said...

Seriously kids and what they do for our egos....dang them! I guess it's Karma for all the years I asked my mom why her belly was so big? LOL!

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