Summer Love

I know. I've disappeared for a week. It happened partly because it's our first week of summer, and we have just been enjoying life without a schedule. True to my word, we have just been doing what we want to do when we want to do it. Mostly that means we have spent a lot of time poolside.

Have I mentioned that I heart our pool? I mean, like, true, unadulterated love? Because I do. It makes my kids happy, and that makes me happy. And usually there is no bickering in the pool. That makes me even more happy. And as things start getting really hot here in the Valley of the Sun (they weren't kidding with that name) I feel inclined to kneel down and kiss the very deck of the pool, except that it would burn my lips 'cause that's how hot it gets here, so I don't. Instead I sit in my lounge chair with my book and a cold Coke Zero and feel really happy. That's kind of like the same thing.

Logan asked yesterday why I always wear my swimming suit and never get in the pool. Silly girl. I don't need to actually swim in it to really, really love our pool.

Happy Memorial Day!
What's on the to do list?
1. Sleep late.
2. Backyard project
3. BBQ

The general all-American holiday.

Things You Do Not Want To Hear

When your son comes in to wake you up in the morning and you ask, "Did you pee the bed?" And he answers, "Are you going to take away a toy?"

...Not the answer you were hoping for.

When you've been growing your hair out for what seems like eons and your hair dresser says, "You're almost there!" Meaning you are close to looking like you actually style your hair that way on purpose. Yeah, close, but no cigar.

...Not the response or look you were going for.

When you return from the three and a half hour 9:45 am hair appointment and your house looks like you haven't touched it because...well, you haven't, and the phone rings, and it's your mother in law who says, "Hi! I was just making sure you were expecting us today."

...Not the day to forget such important information.

When you're watching American Idol's season finale and Ryan Seacrest says, "And the new Am-ER-ican Idol...2008...is--" (silence)...Stupid DVR.

...Not the ending you were looking for after a very long day.

A Letter to My Employer

Dear Mr. Big Guy,

I'm fairly certain there has been a misunderstanding. When I applied for my job, I was under the impression that the majority of my work would be in a teaching capacity, but I now find that most of my duties involve waste management, to which the wet sheets this morning speak.

I was also under the impression that those under my management would be...well...more manageable. Most of the time they do not seem interested in achieving the outlined objectives. Again, I think there must be some kind of misunderstanding here because I am relatively sure that our four year old trainee has completed the potty portion of the training program so there should be no reason for him to inexplicably urinate on the carpet of his bedroom while dressing.

What I am getting at, sir, is that we are drowning in urine here, and I feel the situation is beyond the scope of my outlined job description, at least as I understand it. If I failed to read the small print carefully, which may have happened as I am distracted most of the time and am regularly functioning with only half of my brain, I would appreciate an updated adendum clearly stating how said situation can best be resolved. Your speed in this matter would be greatly appreciated.

Despondantly Yours,
Mommy on Edge

My Own Summer Reading Program

I'm currently putting together my summer reading list. Are you? So far I have:

Peace Like A River
The Scarlet Letter
The Ladies Auxillary
Emma
Big Stone Gap
Hard Times

Three classics--One American, two British. Three current. A pretty good mix of fiction so far, but...

If you could suggest one book for me to read, what would it be?

Rules of Rubbish

Has somebody changed the rules and forgotten to tell me? Are we now putting the stamp of approval on slobbery? That is the question that is always in my head after leaving a movie. Or a professional sports event. C'mon...I can't be the only one who's noticed it.

We walk into a lovely venue with the new padded reclining chairs and state of the art technology, spend an enjoyable couple of hours being entertained, and then leave it looking like the aftermath of a bad teen party. I can't really understand it. I mean we bring in the popcorn, the sodas, the hot dogs, the candy, what have you, and who says we can just leave it for someone else to clean up? It's just bad manners, isn't it?

Or maybe I just need to revamp my tired speech to my kids. Maybe now I need to say, "Hey! We don't just throw our trash on the floor and expect someone to pick it up...that is until you are a grown up in a public place. Then they have people to do that for you."

What's your take? Carry it out or leave it?

The Day I Taught Mr. Wind a Lesson

We have these weird weather phenomenons in Arizona called microbursts. At least that's what people call them. I'm no meteorologist, but I do know they're kind of like a bad house guest. They barge in without much warning, blow stuff all over the place, rain on your parade a little bit, and just as suddenly are gone without so much as a "how you do?" Yesterday one of them sunk all four of my pool lounge chairs in the deep end of my swimming pool. See what I mean? Thoughtless.

Today when the weather picked up, I was on the phone with a friend and looked out the back window to see my pool umbrella blowing across the deck and lodging between the wall and the loungers. It looked as if it was ready to snap. I hung up quickly and ran outside with Griffin hard on my heels. The wind whipped my hair into my eyes and mouth and roared in my ears. I don't like wind. He's kind of rude.

I finally reached the umbrella and grabbed it without really thinking things through. Suddenly I found the open umbrella acting as a sort of parachute, dragging me backward toward the pool. Screaming and struggling for balance, I realized that it needed to be closed immediately. As I attempted to hold the weight of the umbrella with one hand, the wind shifted slightly and the metal bar hit me in the head. I think I might have cursed. Meanwhile, with my right hand, I grasped the handle and began to turn when the wind suddenly changed directions again and the umbrella crashed shut, the closing mechanism gashing both sides of my left thumb and cutting my pinkie finger. I don't think I cursed since it hurt so badly I couldn't breathe, let alone talk. Finally, with Griffin's help, I managed to get the dadgummed thing back in its stand without bleeding all over it too badly.

Later, after Neosporin and Band-aids had been applied, Griffin said, "Mom, the wind wants to say it's sorry for hurting you."

"Oh, really?" I countered, jokingly. "Well, you can go ahead and tell the wind that I'm not forgiving him because my hand is still hurting."

He surprised me when he quickly walked over to the sliding glass door, opened it, and yelled, "She doesn't forgive you!"

Ha! Take that Mister Wind! I'm not just somebody you can push around...well, on second thought I guess you can, but it doesn't mean I have to like it.