The Beginning...

Saturday, after a long sweaty day in the mail truck, delivering mail for what felt like forever, I came home, barked out some orders at the four boys, and packed up the car and made our escape.

Wait.  I should back up.  A few weeks ago, I was reading Kevin's blog, Always Home and Uncool, who if you haven't already visited, you should, because well, he's always home, and contrary to the blog title, is very cool.  Anyway, he mentioned that he had been given a four pack of tickets to Lake Compounce Amusement Park to give away to one of his fabulous readers.  I believe the hook for me was when he stated....

"Winner will be picked at random. As will my nose."

To which I replied...

"Pick me! Pick me!  I'll even let you pick my nose at random if you wish. :) "

Who would have thought that I would win with a comment about nose picking? Anyways...

The four tickets arrived last week, stamped with "Complimentary Blogger Outreach." and a wonderful letter. And, while I realize I was not the Blogger they were reaching out to, but I still felt pretty special that I was involved in a Blogger Outreach.  It makes me feel so... official, and validated.

Anyway... on with the story...

After quickly booking the hotel through Expedia, on Friday, ensuring that they would in fact have space for the five of us in the one room, Oldest decided he didn't feel well.  On Saturday, he rested all day and after stating he felt 80% better, and I'll be dammed if I lose the money I've reserved the room for, we left around 4pm for our 3 hour adventure.

Our disconnected adventure with no cell phones.  No computer. No gaming systems.

Armed only with the GPS, (because I can not read a map) we were on our way, on and off the Mass Pike, and then the dreaded I84.  All 47 miles of it.  Remarkably, we sailed through Hartford CT in no time at all and arrived at The Farmington Inn.

This is the front lobby that greeted us upon our arrival...

(Click here to visit their website.  Which is also where I stole this picture)

Not your normal lobby booked off Expedia, right?  And definitely not one that only costs $95 a night.  Anyway, after initialling here, here, and here, we were given our keys...

Yeah.  They're real.  Made of actual metal even. In-con-cievable!
So we headed up the stairs and down the hall to room 116, and found this....

OK.  So our room looked more like this...

(My pictures don't convey the beauty
of the room like the website's does)

It wasn't as big, had two beds, and came complete with sickly child, but they were four posted canopy beds none the less!  Real canopy beds, with down pillows and comforters, and under the sheets there was.... wait for it... a feather bed mattress topper.  The bathroom had heated tile floors...

I. Have. Died. And. Gone. To. Heaven.

Granted, they brought in a cot for Youngest (which he claims is the best bed ever) so it as a little tight on space, and Oldest still wasn't feeling well so he was my bed companion for the evening, but still. HEAVEN.

We were all together.  We were getting ready for a great day at the park, there was no whining, no fighting, and best of all, no technology. (Except for Bonus Brother, who regardless of how many hints I drop, can not disconnect himself. *sigh*  But, alas, I am not his mother.  It's really sad that there's a whole generation of people growing up that will never understand the awesomeness of really "being" where you are.) After a bit of a dinner fiasco with Red Robin, we fell asleep.  We all slept until 730 AM. 

HEAVEN, I TELL YOU!

Somewhere around 530 am I did wake up and glance over at Almost Hubs, Bonus brother snoring beside him, Youngest snuggled deep into his cot with feather topper, and Oldest curled up in his favorite sleeping position, and felt so... complete.  Relaxed.  Happy.  Almost Hubs was half awake as well, as we often do, and he smiled in my direction.

He reached out across the space, and held my hand.

It was going to be a great Sunday....



So Here It Is....

I started a new shift at work.  One that keeps me at work for 9 hours a day, with no lunch or breaks.  Yes, I could take the lunch/breaks, but then I'd be there for 10.5 hours. And I'm such a joy *insert eye rolls here* to be around after only 9 hours, I'm sparing everyone that fun filled extravaganza.  I am however, going to love the paycheck.  I haven't had overtime in five years.

All that to say, that I've been running out of hours in the day.  I am going days between answering emails, and although I do try and catch up with y'all on a nightly basis, most of the time I can't construct enough of a sentence to comment.  So just know that I am reading, just not always commenting.  I promise, when I get through altering the "other" wedding dress and (now TWO) bridesmaid dresses I'll be much more pleasant to be around.  The good news... they wedding dress just needs to be pressed and the bridesmaid dresses need to be tried on to ensure the lengths are right.  That's it. :)  Can't say as much for my dress.  When the momentum hits me to do it, I know it will all come together fine. So although I may be certifiable, rest assured, I won't be naked in the gazebo.

I think I just got overwhelmed with everything for a day or two.  I came home the other day from work, made a nice dinner for myself and the kids, cleaned, did some laundry, and found the counter in the kitchen. I fixed the cable, and hooked up the new adapter boxes, cleared some programs out of the computer, and cleaned out the car.  It was so good to get back to the basics.  When my house is cluttered so is my mind.  Add to that, that the route I took over at work this week was completely unorganized and inefficient, sadly leaving me not one place to go where I could unwind.  Needless to say, now that the house is clean and the route is running smooth, I finally slept sans nightmares last night, for a full SEVEN hours. 

This weekend we have some scheduled "unconnected" family time, which is so very much needed right now. It's just what I need to regenerate, ya know? No computers, cell phones, or gaming systems. Period.

It will all work out.  And in a few short weeks, it will all come together, right down to the shoes, suits, flowers, and the personalized M&Ms.

In the mean time, feel free to enjoy the peppy remixed 80"s elevator hold music that is playing in my head.

Right now it's "Girls Just Want To Have Fun" by Cindi Lauper.  Next up....  "Manic Monday"....

Truth Is Thursday...

Truth is...

I got married this week.  The morning of the wedding I drove an hour away to see Almost Hubs's niece because she said she was going to help me get things ready.  But she had started celebrating a wee bit too early and was officially toasted when I arrived at her house.  At last check she was completely drunk, and had crashed her car into a snow bank.  When I glanced at my watch, I realized I had to be at my hair appointment an hour and a half away in less than five minutes.  When I left, I found the sunny brilliant skies had turned freakishly gray and while driving, I encountered the worst freak snow storm imaginable. In August.  In New England.  Snow just doesn't happen here.  But here I was fighting for the road with the industrial city sanding truck, spreading the grittiest, blackest sand I'd ever seen.

I eventually got my hair done, dressed in a dress I'd never seen before, and arrived at my venue.  It was the same boat that I had married on the first time, decorated the same, right down to the champagne flutes and Hershey kisses.  My aunt that has been really nasty to my Mother since my grandmother died, had invited herself and my cousins, but not her husband.  It was fine that she was there, as there was an open invite to everyone, but she had told my cousins that I didn't want them there and that they weren't invited. Yet, here they were.  My youngest cousin was crying, and every time I tried to talk to them, they walked away from me, poisoned by their mother's lies.  Several of my other cousins were also there, bouncing from deck to deck, acting silly, starting arguments, and taking incriminating pictures.   My Mother was busy with my grandmother, who had made apple crisp bars and some sort of blueberry desert.  They were avoiding the main event, as the tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife.

The scene was so bad, I wondered if I should postpone the whole thing. I started to cry. Then my uncle, the one who past away this year, came out of know where, wearing a brown striped shirt and polyester pants.  He handed my Mother a giant 1980's style camcorder, looked at me and told me it was time to get on with it....

....and that's when I woke up.

Truth is...  I really need to get more sleep, preferably sleep without nightmares like this.

Truth is...  I am really missing my grandparents and uncle.  This is the first wedding since they all died, and it just isn't the same.

Truth is...  I am remaking my dress.  Yes.  Really.  I'd rather start from scratch and have it be really comfortable than deal with it the way it is.

Truth is...  That's just the was my creativity works. Deal with it.

Truth is...  My Grandmother never made apple crisp bars, ever.  I'm not even sure what they are.

Truth is... I think deep down, I'm really worried about Almost Hub's niece.  Sometimes I feel like she's heading down the same road her mother has.

Truth is...  I am really looking forward to my honeymoon, if for no other reason than I can sleep.

Truth is...  I have two more bridesmaid dresses to hem for the other wedding... but I must confess, it's a paying gig.  I'm really not that nice.

Truth is... A snow storm in August?  I have no idea where that came from.

Truth is... As much as the timing stinks, I am really looking forward to some much needed unplugged family time this month.

Truth is... Almost Hubs is agreeing with you all lately and the consensus that I am in fact a crazy woman.

Truth is...  I'm losing it.  I expect to find the ice cream safely tucked away in the cabinets and the remote controls for the TV in the fridge by sometime early next week.

Four Tickets, Please...

If you give a Stunt Double Dad two tickets to a Red Sox game,

This Mom will ask you for two more.

Then she'll see how much the tickets cost, and faint onto the floor.

When she comes to, she'll realize they are not in the same section.

She'll hide her glee knowing that she'll enjoy the game free of the high competition and incessant bickering of her sons.

On the morning of the game, she'll pack her camera and pretzels.

Youngest will have a partial meltdown over the lack of readily available potato chips.

So much of a meltdown that she'll debate not going, and threatens his life strongly suggests he takes a nap.

Upon their arrival on Yawkey Way, she'll put her sons front and center of the television crew and get them seen in the opening game clip on NESN.

Then they'll wander into the gift shop because she loves to torture herself and her children with high priced merchandise they can't have, and thrill her sons with an autograph of Skip, a former Red Sox player.

Then she'll insist on some food for which the Stunt Double Dad will hand over his next paycheck.

They'll find a tiny place to eat their hot dogs and sausages, and drink their $4 water.  Children are reminded to drink every drop of their FOUR DOLLAR WATER. The Stunt Double Dad will eat every extra $5 hot dog bun, sans dogs, that can't be eaten by Youngest and this Mom.

She makes time to torture tease mock the Stunt Double for supporting every team EXCEPT the one they were there to see...

They will enter the stadium, and she'll pledge to be a designated driver because she's coupon obsessed and will receive a coupon for a free soda.  She puts the coupon into her bottomless purse, then proceeds to forget all about it.

Upon getting to their seats, this Mom and Oldest will settle in. They check up on Stunt Double and Youngest through the zoom lens...

...Then realize they have no cash.  She will call the Stunt Double Dad and have everyone in her row get up, so she can go get some.

When she arrives at their seats, she'll find that in less than ten minutes, Youngest has already fashioned himself an Hannibal Lecture style face mask of cotton candy.

Upon returning to their seats, and disturbing everyone in the neighboring rows, she and Oldest settle in again.  She does her best to show off her exquisite baseball knowledge to her son.  She is careful with what she says.  Not like last year, when she asked what the big green "Fenway Park" box was on the field...

...an innocent question, for which she is still being mercilessly prosecuted teased for.  But in her defence, it looks very different on TV....

She quickly scores some cotton candy of her own. Looking at it, she'll realize that her no sugar diet has been blown to Hell.  Then she'll get Oldest a Powerade for $5. She'll curse herself for paying that much since she has nine cases at home. Nine cases, yes. really.

They will rise and listen to the National Anthem. She will tear up as always, because she's weird like that. Oldest will roll his eyes with embarrassment and tell this Mom to knock it off. The game will start, and this Mom will do her best to capture the moments...

They talk of batting averages.  The speed of the fast balls.  They check out the old scoreboard and imagine the man running behind it changing the numbers as the Sox kick butt. She wonders if Oldest remembers her waking him up in 2004 to see the Sox's winning of the World Series. Oldest comments on the field and wonders if it has ants or crab grass.  She wonders if she can take these guys home to take care of her ants and crab grass...

Around the 6th inning, the Stunt Double calls her to meet up for ice cream.  Ice cream served in a souvenir baseball helmet.  Who could resist, right? So, she rudely interrupts the 14 people next to her including the kids keeping score on their graphing paper notebooks, and gets up again.  They go in search of the ever elusive kettle corn she has heard so much about but to no avail.  They return to their seats, disturb everyone again, and proceed to join in on the wave 5 times. After a rousing version of "Sweet Caroline" (Ba-Ba-Bah!) they watch the Sox take it 12 to 8.

They make a hasty exit to the street, and decide to go to dinner in town.  Oddly enough they get a table right away at the sports bar in town, Jerry Remy's, where they encounter the hardest maze EVER on a kids menu...

And the Stunt Double continues to act like a goof ball...

A delicious dinner was eaten, and after a brisk walk to the parking garage, they were on their way home. Home to her awaiting laundry pile, messy house, and awaiting phone messages.  With the kids fast asleep in the seat behind them, they both vow to take a good two years off from sporting events.

Unless of course, you want to give this Mom two tickets to the Bruins...

And It's Not Even For Me...

Who loves David's Bridal?

You may, according to their advertising jingle, but I sure as Hell don't.

See, once again, I have opened my big fat mouth graciously offered to make a wedding dress for someone.  Problem is that her wedding is the weekend after mine.  Now, since 16 weeks ago, she had not even tried on a dress, or had any idea what she wanted, I suggested she go try some on.  I also strongly suggested that if she find one she loved, for the love of God she should buy it.  Which she did....

In one size smaller than what she was.

She wanted to lose 50 lbs before the wedding.  In 16 weeks.

She's lost 5.

Which is great for her, not so good for the one who's altering her dress. That would be me.

Lucky for me, she found a style that laces in the back and really flatters her figure.  I couldn't hide my excitement when I realized how easy this alteration would be.  Easy meaning that it was not the worst alteration I have ever done. But once I got it home, I found myself staring at it for over an hour trying to figure out where to start.  Seems leaving the price tag on the dress subconsciously makes me think twice.  Because, easy still involved making the dress look like this....

... and ripping out the seams three, seven, fifteen times to get it right. And removing most of the lace from the bodice.  And re-running the casing and boning (the metal wire in the picture) throughout the bodice. Then re-pressing, steaming, re-beading, and putting it all back together so no one will know.

All for 1/2 inch in the bust line.

The train will bustle fairly easy as will the bow sashes in the back, and thankfully it won't need to be hemmed.

I am also making a cathedral length veil to accompany her tiara, which has also been made and ripped apart twice, because well, I just don't like it yet.

So if your wondering where I've been lately, I'm still here.

Covered in bridal tulle and satin.

Truth Is Thursday...

Truth is... I let Oldest have a friend over on Tuesday.  When I dropped his friend off, his little brother came out and said to me "How old are you? You look like you're about thirty." Is it wrong that I debated leaving Oldest there and taking this kid home with me instead?

Truth is... Youngest keeps coming down into his "new" room and saying "It's coming along quite nicely."

Truth is... I've been sanding drywall for what seems like an eternity.  I'm sure I have enough dry wall dust up my nose to re-spackle the walls all over again.

Truth is... only an idiot would file a motion for custody of his children and ask for more visitation, and then not be responsible enough to show up for the trial.

Truth is... I love when their father doesn't show up for court.  It makes presenting my case so much easier.

Truth is... I'm so glad stupidity/irresponsibility/cluelessness isn't an inherited trait.

Truth is... I've got way too many things going on. I feel like the next day I have off, I'll be getting married.

Truth is... I'm a control freak.  My mother laughed at me yesterday when I asked if I was having a bridal shower. "You can't control everything, Juli..."

Truth is... with all I have going on, I should have taken advantage of my early day in court this week.  Instead, I went to lunch with my Mom, sister, niece and nephew,

...then came home and happily sat on my butt.

Summer Balance...

The air is thick, soggy and hot.  Heavy, it is ridden with dust and pollen. The sun warms the day and as morning turns to noon, every movement is labored, the body carving waves through this dense summer air. The sun is unforgiving, a few clouds move in overhead.  Still fluffy enough to provide no shelter from the blaring brightness above, yet low enough to create a thick layer of insulation, sealing in the unbearable heat of nature's high efficiency oven.

Tasks were labored through, the children rescued from the mid-day camp extravaganzas, we whisk ourselves to the refuse of our home.  Already the winds have picked up. You can feel the change coming.  Trees rustle in the wind, American flags swing wildly on their posts, begging to be rescued from these new winds of change. Tucked away safe in the house, our lungs filling with the sweet relief of recycled cold air.

The day darkens.

And instantly, without warning, it falls.  Pouring from the sky, soaking all in encounters, creating a dense curtain of blindness between myself and the world outside.  Overwhelmed by the unforgiving rain, it floods the streets, carving tunnels and pools where there once was a dusty, dry old dirt road.  The flowers would welcome this renewed relief, had it not been so over bearing to topple them over, breaking their stems.  It cuts sharply and efficiently through the pollen ridden air, dragging it to the earth, forever burying it deep into the ground. 

Then,  just as suddenly as it started, it stops.  I emerge from the house and step outside into the new day.  The air is still warm but not as heavy, now thick with the smell of fresh salt air.  It feels different somehow, electrifying.  There is no doubt that Mother Nature will release her most wicked manic temperament throughout the night.  Tucked safely in our bed, my walls will reverberate with each crash of thunder.  Lightning will envelop my room with the intensity of breaking dawn.

And, I will snuggle down deeper into my night's sleep....

....content with the balance that has finally come.

I've Been Banished...

...to the basement. It's where Almost Hubs and I are spending most of our free time these days. 

I have a small house.  The total square footage is just under 1000 square feet.  For the first three years, I had plenty of room.  It was just myself and the boys.  My bedroom is 12 X 14, and while small, enables me to have enough space for a dresser and a queen sized bed.  It also has the only closet in the house.  The boys room was 10 X10, big enough for a bunk bed and a dresser, but had no closet.  By the time they were 4 and 5 it was clear that there was no room for all their crap they would need more space. 

So I banished them to the basement.

The basement has low ceilings, but the boys being vertically challenged, this was a non-issue.  I did what I could, expanding the space by removing much of the old construction materials, and reworking the floor plan.  I painted one side dark blue with a Batman motif.  The other side was done in Red for the Red Sox.  I bought them new bedding, they each had dressers, and they could decorate their walls any way they wanted. Honestly, I had very little money to spend on this project, so it was pieced together what ever way I could.

I also had no idea what I was doing. 

Which meant that walls weren't done perfectly, electrical was left as is, and temporary ceiling was installed purely because the square tiles would fit in my car.  The floors were painted white with area rugs installed for warmth.  One additional heating vent was made for the winter.  Real drywall was out of the realm of possibility, as I had no truck to transport it, nor did I have the help to install it.  And don't get me started on the accordion folding door to the laundry room. It was a tragedy really.

The kids loved it anyway.  REALLY loved it. It was their "boys only" Bat cave.

Still, I felt horrible.  Like I had let my kids live in a substandard manner.  Every time I went down to clean, I was reminded of this by the spider webs left to flourish, and the tiny carcasses of their dinners left in dark corners of their room.  I think had I ever found a mouse down their room, I would have had to move. Thankfully, I never did.  Now don't get me wrong, the room was perfectly fine.  I just didn't feel like it was good enough for my boys.

The time had come.

For the last few weeks because we don't have enough going on already we have been demolishing and reconstructing the basement bedroom. It's slow going, because we still don't know what we're doing, but it's coming along quite nicely. 

Almost Hubs removed the oil tank that we no longer needed, acquiring another 15 square feet of space.  I rewired all of the electrical outlets with new boxes and outlets.  I capped off all broken/exposed electrical juncture boxes.  Almost Hubs and I framed out walls, insulated everything with R15, and put up drywall.  REAL drywall.  We have patched and taped, mudded and sanded. We removed the rats nest of wires and cables in the ceiling and are installing a new drywall ceiling that won't fall down. We will be laying wood laminate flooring, new carpet down the stairs, new closets, and the old accordion door will be replaced by a real wood door, properly hung in a secured frame.

It's taking forever.  But it's so worth it.

When we are done it will add 400 square feet of real usable space to the house.....

...and a whole lot of satisfaction to this Momma's peace of mind.

Truth Is Thursday...

Truth is... I had all these great truths to share with you.  But right now I am sitting in the middle of the boys' night light lit room, threatening death to the next one who speaks/hums/whines/breaths wrong.  Why can't they just go to bed?

UGH!

Truth is... you'll all just have to wait until next week.  Sorry.

Really Easy Appitizer...

So, Stef  is looking for great appetizer recipes over at her place.

Got one?

Go see her... link up.

Anyways...

I had this fabulous appetizer at lunch with my Mom the other day at a local restaurant.  So simple, even I can make it.  There's no real right or wrong, and you can use as much or as little ingredients as you wish.

Sadly, I have no pictures for you.... there's no way I'm turning on the oven. Sorry.

So without further ado...

 Zucchini Wrap Ups

Cut 2 zucchinis into slices, lengthwise, about 1/4 inch thick.  Brush with olive oil  and lightly grill on each side (on the grill or in a grill pan) just until they are soft and pliable.  Remove from pan/grill, and lay flat on work surface. Spread a generous amount of Alouette cheese on each piece.  Sprinkle with Italian spices ( oregano, basil, whatever) a bit more olive oil, and salt and pepper to taste.  Roll each zucchini slice up, and place in a shallow baking dish.  Top with your favorite marinara and some fresh cubed tomatoes.  Bake at 350 about 30 minutes or until zucchini is cooked through.

You can also cook up some ground sausage and roll it in with the cheese. It's not as healthy, but double delicious.

Yum!

Now go visit Stef.  She needs your recipes!

Seriously.  She has five kids to feed!

Health Update...

"I didn't want to worry you."

Why do people say that?  Really? 

Because honestly, I think we give up the luxury of deciding who gets to worry as soon as we let someone know us well enough to care about us.  Now granted, I don't think that one should go tell Aunt Ida every little thing that's going on if she's going to get an ulcer from her worry, but holding important information from the people who love us, simply for the sake of not worrying them, is just unnecessary.

Because,  trust me, they'll worry anyway, and you'll feel better not being the only one who knows.

Recently I have had some health concerns.  Girly stuff. (Men feel free to leave now)  Basically, I'm not normal. (try to control your laughter)  I only get 3 or 4 cycles a year (Yes, ladies, I know. You hate me.) preempted by two days of bitchiness, and a small amount of discomfort.  However, lately they have induced early labor pains, and caused my chest to swell.  Like a whole cup size.  It was bad enough this last time to warrant many doctor's appointments, ultrasounds, and the dreaded mammogram, to determine exactly what was going on.  I had the initial tests which revealed that my (already known) existing cysts had not grown in size and received the standard lecture, complete with waving finger of guilt, about how "these are supposed to be checked every two years" from the doctor.  I later received the same lecture from friends, and the threat of a butt whooping if I ever missed a follow up appointment again. Point taken.

I had the final mammogram and ultrasound yesterday. After applying the medical "pasties" used to determine right and left on the films, I was squished, man handled, and in 95 degree heat, stuck to the machine like a Color Form decal on the inside of a car window in July.  Three views for both sides, each stretching and pulling the girls in a way to ensure they will never be perky again. All to reveal... nothing.

Zip.

Nada.

The girls are perfectly fine, and show no issues or areas of concern.  Seems the hormone surge causes the ducts to enlarge, which was the mass that I had felt.  It also accounts for the extreme sensitivity. So, I get to be squished all over again in 4 years, which should fit in nicely with my check in for the cysts in two. 

I'm not going to lie here.  I was nervous.  I was cracking jokes and incessantly rambling to anyone and every one the whole day.  My mother asked a few questions, and left me alone for the most part.  My sister tried to be supportive, and then forgot all about it, lost in her own sea of complicated chaos.  Friends were supportive, one telling me "You'll be fine.  You're too important to lose." Almost Hubs was even more nervous than I.  He hides it well, shrouding it in a blankets of "I love yous" and "Who doesn't love this woman?".  But I could tell.  He wasn't ready to deal with something wrong with "his" girls. 

Later that night, I realized that in my haste of leaving the office, I had forgotten to remove the colorful left and right stickers from my nipples. 

Then I thought maybe I should leave them on.

You know, for Almost Hub's frame of reference.

Just Us Three...

Ten years ago I hated going anywhere with my family.  Not because I didn't love them or want to be around them, but the sting was just unbearable. 

My parents have been married for 39 years this August. 

My sister and brother are also married with kids.

Everyone was in a functioning family but me.  And, at every family function I was reminded that their children had two parents. Two parents working together, disciplining, laughing, and playing.  Our family had me. And while I did what I could to make up for it, I spent many a party tucked in a secluded room with Youngest reduced to tears because he was the only one without a father there.  There was no time out for me, no weekend away, no quick trip to the grocery store.  It was just me.

Time wore on, as it always does.  Almost Hubs came into our lives, and the dynamic changed.  The more he was present, the more time I had to myself.  Gone were the days (for the most part) of schlepping two boys to the grocery store just for milk, and I finally had a sounding board for my parenting dilemmas.  The more he stayed, the more part of our routine he became.  We slowly became the fully functioning family unit that I had missed for so long.  And with that, came changes in how we did things.  Dinner became later in the night, the boysno longer camped in the living room, and never sleep over in my room.  And, while I don't miss much of the chaos of raising two boys alone, I do miss living room camping and having them crawl into bed with me in the morning.

This weekend I took the boys to New Hampshire for a Hot Air Balloon festival.  Almost Hubs stayed behind to do "stuff".  So, Saturday night after work, each child armed with their backpack 'o luggage and I, headed off on our adventure.  My parents also wanted to come along, so we carpooled with them, and then later met up at the hotel with my sister, brother in law, and their two children.

We watched fireworks explode in patriotic red, white, and blue.  

But my nieces favorite were the "unicorn" colored ones of purples, greens, and white.  Glow sticks were bought, head bands were fashioned, and sleepy eyes were fixated until the last of the roman candles were shot into the night.

Tucked away safe at the hotel, Youngest enjoyed a few hours of sleep enveloped in a bed much bigger than his own, as Oldest nestled down with me, settling deep into dreams of tomorrow.  Five AM came way too early, as both boys shook off the last of the sandman's dust and headed out to watch the morning launches.

Back at the hotel for or complimentary breakfast of sorts, Oldest struck up a conversation with an elderly couple at his table.  This led to the passing around of pictures of their grandchildren and talks of their travels across the country.  Peering over, I asked my Mother what he was doing. "Making friends." she said.

Later, my sister and I watched on as the kids all piled in the pool.  Snorkels were shared, splashing ensued, and the pool was soon vacated by all the other guests.  They dove for the bottom, as their cousins clung to the sides for support.  They experimented with fins on their feet, and hands, sometimes with both, sometimes with one. Piggy backs around the deep end lead to giggles, and the brewing tsunami of devilish boys lead to my soaking wet butt.  Back in the room, the news spread like wild fire of the Sunday Stooges marathon, and my much needed nap was interrupted by the roar of belly laughter as Curly shot Moe with a tack gun and Larry tried to carefully remove them from his rear. 

We returned to the fair later in the day.  Ride were ridden, boys were flipped.

Thankfully, cookies were not tossed.
Walls were climbed,

Magicians pulled rabbits from hats. Firemen shot their hoses in epic struggles of which borough had the best aim.  Games were played, prizes were won.

There was much chaos.  Dinners were eaten at tables of nine.  Naps were missed, meltdowns ensued.  Many, many trips back and forth were made to the car for blankets, sweat shirts, and time-outs.   Jokes were cracked, and memories were formed.

Riding home, wedged between boys in the tiny back seat of my parents Rav4, they both fell asleep.  Oldest on my left, snuggled up against my arm, smelling of sweat and bug spray.  Youngest to my right, snuggled deep into my lap, smelling of sunscreen and maple syrup.  And for those three hours, I was never so happy to be just the three of us. 

Our whole family will change in a few short weeks forever. And while I am excited  for everything that comes along with making our family complete, I will really miss these moments. 

The rare moments when it was just me and my boys.

Truth Is Thursday...

Truth is... watching Oldest be launched 60 feet into the air is pretty funny...

...seeing the face he makes from the atomic wedgie is hysterical.

Truth is... having your ten year old son teach you how to canoe is pretty awesome.  Having him almost capsize you because he sees a random floating piece of rope turtle, not so much.

Truth is... nothing ends family fun night at the YMCA more than Youngest puking all over the back seat of the car.

Truth is... I really should fix that basement window I broke with something other than duct tape.

Truth is.. you never know how often you turn right while driving until your blinker goes out.

Truth is... I kept forgetting to wash the car.  So, I left myself a note.....

Truth is... I'm craving Mike's pastries.  Anyone who's been to Boston KNOWS Mike's. I'm thinking my next trip into the city may warrant some indulging, regardless of the Celiac attack they will launch.

They. Are. That. Good.

No worries, Stephanie... it will be our first stop.

Truth is... That's all I have this week. Work is sucking the life out of me. And, so are the mosquitoes.

Alright. Who Left The Bag Of Stupid Out?

Every morning I lay out my son's pills and vitamins for them to take.  Oldest's pills are easy, as one is green, and the other 3 are gummy bear shaped vitamins.  Youngest's pills are all the same size, white round pills.  He gets 3 Magnesium (300mg) and 1 1/2 of his regular medicine.  Today, I issued the pills, and he asked me why they tasted like mint.

What?

A quick look revealed that I gave him 3 melatonin pills, also round and white, instead of his magnesium. 

Now, normally, I would be freaked out, but knowing melatonin well, I know he'll just take a nap and be fine.  But at the end of the day, I still felt like an idiot about over dosing my son.

But that's Okay, because according to the news lately, they'd never find me guilty anyway.

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I started the tear out of the boys bedroom over the weekend.  Upon attempting to remove the casing around the old windows, the hammer slipped and lightly tapped the glass.  The fifty year old, single pane, wind blows and it cracks, glass.  It shattered everywhere.

And I of course was wearing the safety approved foot wear of construction workers everywhere.... Nike flip flops.

I could have lost a toe!

The next day, I was at it again with a crow bar, sporting the same fashionable foot wear.

You'll all be happy to know, I still have all my toes.

Next up, removing the oil tank.  Any suggestions of how to do it with out causing an explosion?

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The other day I was out delivering mail and pulled in to park in a designated mail loading area, when a woman pulled right up into my blocked off space in her shiny new BMW yappin' away on her cell phone.  When she exited her car, I pulled along behind her and nicely told her that she couldn't park there, that it was for postal use.  She gave me "the look", huffed back into her car (still on the phone), and re-parked her car.

Right into the other marked area for handicapped parking.

Now, if there was ever a case to be made for marrying for money instead of dying of stupidity, this community is it.  Many residents, while incredibly wealthy, are not the brightest fireworks in the sky, if you know what I mean. So, I figured that this woman just had no idea what the painted lines meant, since clearly she could have parked in any one of the other 5 empty spaces right along that stretch of side walk.  So, again, I looked out the mail truck window and said "Ma'am, you do realize that that is the handicapped access area right?"

To which, she ran over to the truck screaming about how rude I was, and how I had no business talking to her, telling her where to park, and that I am ALWAYS rude to her, and she was going to report me.

What? I have never met her before, ever.

I told her to have a nice day and left her "venting" to anyone who would listen. Even after she was told I was not the woman she has had this conversation before with, she still persists. On. And. On.  She eventually left and I was informed that she has had it out with the regular carrier on many occasions, over this same issue.  Really lady?  You didn't know I wasn't the same woman? She's over 60, has 40lbs on me, and is missing a number of her teeth. Really? 

Upon returning to the office, I found that she had in fact, not "reported" me. Perhaps she realized that the only thing she could say was that she was parked in a clearly marked postal only space, and then later illegally parked in a handicapped space.  And, somehow, that was all my fault.

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Youngest: "Mom, if I drove a car 3,000 MPH would I die?"

Me: "Well, if the car went even 300 MPH and hit a teeny pebble, it would be airborne, so probably."

Youngest: "So if it went like, 3,000 MPH, I bet it would launch itself to Canada."

Me: "Um, Okay."

Youngest: "That would be awesome. Just strap a rocket to it and go."

Me: "But how would you land safely?"

Youngest: "On the tires. Duh."

Duh indeed.

Still Alive...

Things have been crazy here.

But not as crazy as at the local grocery store...

Happy Fourth!