the summer that isn’t

 

 

Working parents know this.

It’s sometimes hard to really feel like you’ve gotten a summer when your routine stays the same.  When you can’t take a vacation because of that stinky thing you can’t talk about.  And especially, when the rest of the nation swelters and you are still wearing jeans and have no idea where the sunscreen section at the store is.

 

We’re stealing pieces of summer this year.  (And giving crazy-eyed looks to those of you who are posting about your kids starting school again in two weeks.  Y’all are NUTS!)

We got some welcome news that one of the first bloggers we ever met online, was actually visiting nearby!  Any guesses?

 

 

Stacy and Brian and their towheads from The Land of K.A. were passing through and we thought some redneck bbq and a game of miniature golf would be fun.

 

Please note in the picture above, that I look like a chubby elf in a BEFORE picture for matte powder.  Stacy looks classy and completely un-jetlagged.  We both have dimples, so I’m calling twinsies on that :)

 

And for the record… the putt-putt golf girl took two pictures in rapid succession.  Which meant that Itty Bit spent 17 minutes on my computer hitting the forward and back arrows making us move…

 

 

You have gotta love that Kai’s sucker goes up and down and Itty Bit looks like he’s just run a marathon.

(Hooray for me – I created my first GIF and only wanted to punch the computer 42 times!)

 

We had fun.  The kids were better at it than I was (try to contain your shock)… and Mr. Daddy had to show us all up with a hole-in-one…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

See Stacy demonstrating proper form as she sinks yet another one?  I’m not sure what Itty Bit’s style would be called?

We were sad to see them go!

~

 

Then Itty Bit’s church camp ended with an oversized slip ‘n slide celebration.  In 60 degree weather.  Brr.

 

 

Little stinker tried to sneak up on May-May and Grandma with hands full of bubbles.

The chick in the grey was totally onto what was happening…

Love how innocent he looks.

 

 

 

And then the photographer had to intervene before two 6-year olds wound up in hand-to-hand combat on the church lawn.

 

~

 

A ride out to inspect the winter storm damage was overdue.  Itty Bit is still perfecting his driving skills.  I yelled “SMILE” and this is what I got.

 

 

When I grumbled that Mr. Daddy hadn’t smiled, he shot me this:

 

(Which was actually pretty understandable, since Itty Bit ran into a stump shortly afterward)

 

You have got to laugh, that 40,000 acres out in the country, someone thought to put some directional signs out.  And a handy plastic chair.

 

 

And this is just for reference.  See the Rhino tire in the wee stream?

 

That, my friends, is what my prissy mare turned her nose up at and walked 38 more steps sideways to avoid getting her feet wet.  GOOF.

(Who me?  Yes you!)

 

The trails are overgrown with daisies and I squeezed myself through the roof of the Rhino.

 

And it was worth the bruised ribs to see those contented faces.

 

 

How is your weekend?  Ours can only get better!  We’re meeting MORE blog friends tomorrow!  Heck, I think we should make a tradition of this and do it every weekend!  Who’s next on the list? :)

Mommy I need a quarter

 

 

…and other things you never want to hear your eager reader say in a public bathroom.

 

 

 

Dear Church,

Please remove those vending devices.

They’ve been empty for over a year.

My son has dutifully confirmed this for you every single visit.

 

You’re welcome.

 

And while we’re asking for favors…

Can you please tell me how to respond to,

“Mommy, what’s a t-t-t-t-am-puh-puh-puh-awn?

 

Sincerely,

She Who Is Terrified To Keep Quarters In Her Purse

and then the squirrels came and they took over the whole world

 

 

The plan was just to post a few pictures of the four-legged cheerfulness around our place lately…

 

Kona loving on my mom,

 

the brand new foal next door… hiding under mama,

 

the herd’s response to all the newborn hoopla

(note the tongue sticking out… per usual)

 

and my parents’ 80 pound sweethearts who think they are lapdogs,

 

 

(not even kidding a little bit about the lapdog part…)

 

 

But then it all went awry when we opened the door to leave for church yesterday.

And this beautiful mourning dove was laying stunned on our porch.  Blood and a telltale smudge on the window.

 

 

Injured eyes and a suspected broken beak.  Mr. Daddy caved after two days of me begging fretting and Mr. Dove is now at an animal rescue.

 

 

But the real critter story?

Was all Julie’s fault.

 

Julie (WifeMomNurse) and her husband (TheDamageIsDone) were posting silly photos on eachother’s Facebook walls.

 

Swayed by what all the cool kids were doing, I posted the most random thing I could find in my photo files… on Mr. Daddy’s wall.

 

And suddenly… Facebook (as well as my email notifications)…

BLEW UP.

 

 

I could not possibly tag everyone who ended up part of the epic collection that formed on my wall… dozens of squirrel photos and vids were somehow linked back to us.  We sat and LMSO (laughed our squirrels off) for three days straight.

 

There were a lot of confused innocent parties who politely inquired as to why my wall was overrun with the rodents…

(photos available via Google… but don’t say I didn’t warn you!)

 

This one was quickly dubbed a Florida/California squirrel:

 

With the heatwave crushing Georgia, Shana claimed this one:

 

Roll Tide:

 

 

Texas:

 

Southern Squirrel

 

 

Another Florida winner:

 

Squideer:

 

 

Ninja:

 

 

 

Exceptionally useful:

 

 

Awesomesauce:

 

Mr. Daddy’s family:

 

Rachel’s family:

 

Itty Bit’s family:

 

 

And then one of my own traumatic Google finds… (remember, I warned you!):

Yes, an actual mounted squirrel butt.  Your life is now complete.
You’re welcome.

 

 

So if someone says, “there’s a squirrel for that”… you’ll know where it came from.

 

Thanks for being able to make us laugh – I feel like you guys really get us… y’know?  Who else would tag me with this?

 

Shopping With Children… still a dangerous game

 

 

I have like 582 unread blog posts in my reader.

And 581.5 blog posts to write.

 

You guys are so patient when I keep asking for prayer and not having any real updates.

 

The last test was supposed to take 10-15 minutes.

 

TWO HOURS and 15 minutes later, we walked out with more questions than answers.

 

There is still a dumb stupid spot on the screen.  It’s not supposed to be there and I’ve realized that the only thing worse than a confused radiologist, is a confused wife.

 

Stoopid “c” word.  Don’t mess with us.  We will

take.

you.

out.

 

(and in true Once Upon A Miracle fashion… the above photo was taken .14 seconds before the signal reached my brain and my left hand jerked sideways and I started screaming, HOT HOT HOT HOT HOT HOT OH SWEET ROCKIN HOTTIE MAGNUM DADDY THIS THING IS HOT!)

 

 

So I’m sticking to the funny.  Or embarrassing.  Or embarrassing to me and therefore probably funny to you.

It’s been awhile since we’ve had a true “Shopping With Kids” adventure, eh?  Which one was worst?  Decapitating the mannequin?  Or watching Daddy kick Mommy in the face with a soccer ball?

 

 

The kid was happily clutching his Star Wars Lego set that he picked out with his chore money… so I decided to speed shop for a summer shirt.

Knowing I was already on borrowed time, I grabbed nine shirts in a matter of seconds and dashed toward the fitting rooms.

 

I kid you not.  The employee made eye contact with me, spun on her heel, and walked off.  Leaving me with a row of locked doors.

(And one bored husband waiting for his wife, who suddenly started paying attention to the scene).

 

Scene?  I didn’t make a scene.  Of course not.  Who do you think I am?

 

Nevermind.  Don’t answer that.

 

With a “shh” face to the not-so-bored-anymore husband, I whispered to Itty Bit.  He looked at me incredulously.

And in two seconds flat, he had his face pressed to the floor trying to shimmy under the dressing room door.

 

People… it was six inches off the floor.  He squeezed his precious little head in; then I thought it was going to be terrible, just terrible if his poor little butt got stuck.

 

But after he wriggled through and disappeared… I suddenly had an even more terrible thought.

 

WHAT IF SOME POOR HALF-DRESSED SUNBURNED PACIFIC NORTHWEST LADY WAS WRESTLING WITH A ZIPPER AND MY NINJA KID POPPED IN LIKE AN UNSTUCK CORK AND WAS STANDING THERE TELLING HER THAT HIS MOMMY SENT HIM..??!

 

The little stinker stood there and likely admired his reflection for a full 12 seconds before unlocking the door for his very worried momma.

 

He must have sensed my almost-freaked-out relief to see him in there alone.  As I tore through the first three shirts in quick succession, he sweetly smiled up at me…

 

“Momma?  You’re pretty”.

 

Awwww…. melt.  Gimme a hug.

 

“Momma?”

 

“Yes Honey?”

 

“Why are you fat?”

 

Now… I didn’t exactly hear the not-so-bored-waiting-husband snort, but I have a feeling he was enjoying the entertainment.

 

 

BOYS.

 

 

 

Do your kids ever give you blogworthy moments in public?