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The Sum(mer) Of It All
Writing this post is, to me, the equivalent of taking a broom to sweep out the cobwebs congregating in the corners of the room. I know it’s been awhile. Since mid-summer, the blog has remained dormant, with nary a new post to be seen. (Image Courtesy of www.arizonaoddities.com) Where’s the Six Pack been? Well.. I wish I had a great reason to explain my absence. But the truth of it is really quite ordinary… Life happened. And I was too busy maintaining it for lots of people. We had a fairly uneventful summer. We did the ordinary things: visits to the local pool. Day trips to visit my sister and…
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The Iron Maiden
This is one of those stories that as a parent, you can laugh about LATER… after the fact. WAY after the fact. At the time, it was one of those heart-pumping crisis moments that you hope, as a parent, are few and far in between. Personally, I blame the Flintstones. Yes, my kids eat a fairly well-balanced diet -well, some of them, anyway. #5 would prefer to eat butter rather than anything resembling a vegetable- but even though my kids eat well, I liked to give them a vitamin a day. And I fondly remembered growing up with Flintstone vitamins. The commercials, that is. We didn’t have vitamins at all growing…
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Sum-mer Home? (ALL Are Home)
We’re now in the second official week of summer, and I’m happy to report that despite the culture shock of the first few days, we’ve now settled into a solid daily routine. Not that it’s not still a challenge, though. Having all six kids home all summer, coupled with The Captain not arriving home until roughly 8pm, is exhausting to say the least. My energy starts to wane by dinnertime; bedtime can occasionally be a desperate affair, and by the time I hit my own bed after the day’s shenanigans, it’s a bit like this: So the first few days were a bit… hectic. We had approximately 17 fights (the…
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This is 40.
Let me preface this by saying that that prior to turning 40, I was never the type to experience any angst about my age. My 20’s were great. Turning 30 was no big deal, because I was so busy- married for 5 years and pregnant with my third child. But the Big 4-0… well, that was a different story… The prospect of turning 40 was not ok with me. 40 is OLD. 40 is sore muscles, mom jeans, sensible haircuts, and holding things further away from you as you attempt to read them. No. NOOOOO. The problem is, the chronological number didn’t gel with my internal age. You know. About……
