Jake's gone till late tonight and I've got a lot of insignificant stuff to say and the boys only want to talk about someone named Shauna (no idea who that is so we're going with imaginary friend...) and not listen to my ramble (don't blame them) so I'm blogging. It's like grocery shopping when when you're hungry. Dangerous. So buckle up, exit out, or raise your hand if your name is Shauna.
Who else feels like getting their kids from point A to B is like herding cats? Or some sort of terrorist negotiation. "I will only walk forward when promised a blue Icee and fully smudge your sunglasses when (not if) you give them too me."
It's like they've never used their legs before. We take three steps forward and the legs just don't know what to do next.
Stare at the sky?
Comment on bird eating off the ground?
Try and pick up something unrecognizable from said ground?
Side step forward?
Cupid shuffle to the right?
Cupid shuffle to the left?
Beg to be carried?
Recently, on a trip to a local tumbling gym (surprised I didn't say Target or Chick-Fil-A? This old girl is learning new tricks) we were walking out and followed very s-l-o-w-l-y by a car driven by an idiot to our parking spot in a relatively empty parking lot where said idiot waited and waited and waited and waited as I loaded and buckled all two Miller children into their car seats...an event in and of itself. It somehow seems to take eternity X eternity to get everyone belted and content. So hopefully the wait was worth it, bizarro.
And you know that feeling when you pull into the driveway and you know that deeeeeeep breath you take before you have to get kids out of car seats and herd them inside while somehow propping the front door open and sprinting the groceries inside before one of the toddlers escapes down the driveway to the Never Never Land that is the neighbor's full of yard decorations yard? It's the worst right?
And to end this tangent, a quote from Rhett after a trip to the pediatrician that, "everyone was SO good...I didn't cry and Rad didn't cry and EVEN MOM didn't cry!!!" Fist bumps, fist pumps, and all.
...where all your dreams come true, right Julia?
Although there were no victorian dresses or long flowing hair with us astride a mighty steed, maybe with the sun setting in the background, a la a trashy romance novel...it was f-f-f-ff-f-fff-f-f-u-u-u-u--uu-nn-n--n-nn-n-n-n.
We ate Nemo and all his friends. Sorry Pixar.
Jake always asks why I take pictures of food and I think the answer is pretty obvious. So I can look at it while I eat Goldfish crackers for lunch. Solidarity for SAHMs with sub par lunch options right?
We hit up Happy Hour and got a little too happy with the half priced menu and some how ended up with 10 rolls of sushi, edamame and crab won tons. And 6098 calories later we are still happy sumos.
^^^The most awkward lone-female-in-front-of-a-blue-wall-picture you will ever see. I told Jake he should compliment how long and thin my legs looked thanks to my Target wedges and he told me I look kind of like a graceful giraffe. Thanks. Good thing we're on this for the long haul honey.
At church I have the awesome chance to work with the youth, which means chances like this ^^^ to seize all blades of glory and sequined dreams had by girls of the 90s who watched and envied Kristi Yamaguchi.
It's inevitably going to take till 2025 or 2040 to master skating backward, so I think I've missed my chance to grace the Olympic ice. But I'm never giving up on wearing a purple sequined leotard. Never. No really...it may be on my bucket list.