Within the past year, my now-eleven year-old (as of Tuesday) has figured out (in his words) "all the world's mysteries". He figured out the tooth fairy, then that Santa Claus "was the same thing"; after he started asking questions about sex, we had to set the record straight and break that down to him in great length and detail. Not too long ago, he informed me of certain "changes" physically he's noticed lately... *Sigh* WHY?! WHY does he have to be in a hurry to grow up, I ask you all???
I loved it when he'd sit on my lap as a toddler; for hours we'd watch Blues Clues and The Wiggles. Now he's all about manga and violent, stupid crap-TV.
We played laser tag as part of his birthday festivities this year. At one point, he shot me before I could shoot him and I went to give him a hug and, no joke, he backed away, hands up, and said, "Not in public, Mom". It felt like someone took a knife, jabbed it into my heart, then just for good measure, ground it around a little, just to make sure it was in there nice and deep. Once again, *Sigh*.
I've had a hard time this past year, adjusting to the fact that Alex is NOT a little boy anymore. Besides discovering all the world's greatest secrets, he's also been busy growing like a weed. At the end of the school year, his tennis shoes were a mess- they were literally falling apart and smelled so God-awful that the second you opened the closet door, this stench blasted you in the face. So I threw them out and told him he could wear sandles all summer until it was time to buy new shoes again. Last weekend, I took him to Kohl's to start school shopping (since school starts in less than three weeks- sad, sad, sad...). He picked out a couple different shoes he liked (because he's also now at that age when Heaven forbid you try to buy him something without he being there)-- I couldn't believe what size his foot is now. He's now up to an 8 1/2 mens'. So that means in one summer his foot grew 2 1/2 shoe sizes. I've also started the tradition of measuring the boys against the wall in the pantry and marking where they are. He's now at five foot, one inch. If he keeps growing like this, he's going to pass up his father and I in about, oh a couple years. GEAAWD...
The latest episode of "salt in the wound" for me happened last night. My in-laws want to start taking all the grandsons one-by-one overnight for a couple nights at a time, just so they can spend "quality time" with each of them. My mother-in-law asked us if Alex could spend a few days with them this week, one of the nights he gets to go to an Indians' game with his grandpa and cousin, Zach. Since we paid for the boys to take swim lessons a while back, we said that he could at least go over tonight and tomorrow and hang out. I kept all this from Alex till last night so he wouldn't rub it in his brother's face (because that's what siblings do); he was very excited because 1) he gets to go to a baseball game, 2) he gets to play with Grandma and Grandpa's new dog, 3) his cousin's going to be there, and 4) they're going swimming in the neighborhood pool tomorrow. No joke; he literally was jumping up and down. When I made the comment that I was sorry we hadn't really hung out and had quality time last night (because he and Aidan asked my friend's three kids over for dinner), he said, "Really, Mom, it's okay". Man, keep driving that knife in farther, Alex.
Our county's 4H fair is going on right now. I really didn't feel like trapsing around in the animal manure again this year, however a couple friends of mine convinced me that I should meet them there. Because I'm such a sucker for peer pressure, I agreed.
We had beautiful weather (partly sunny and in the 60s- go figure for July!) and the manure exposure was pretty minimal, considering all the livestock barns we walked through. And of course there was the food- fair food really does kick ass, there's no doubt about it.
Throughout the whole afternoon there, smells and sounds reminded me of memories of when I was a girl, growing up in BFE- nowhere and how much I always looked forward to our 4H fair. I never was in 4H, but I enjoyed running around the fair every year with my friends; I'm sure that I would've felt the fair was more than a social event if I HAD been in 4H, but joining 4H was too much work, in my book (God forbid I exerted myself any more than I had to). I remember trying to look my best, in hopes of running into some miscelanious boy that was my crush-of-the-hour. And a couple summers I actually had a real, live boyfriend at the time of the fair; I remember walking around the fair with boyfriend-of-the minute and feeling so "cool" because I was with my big, grown-up boyfriend (I now look back on that and think how stupid that thinking really was).
I remember riding the bullet and gunny-sack slides and the scrambler (all of which I would never let my kids ride now, because of fear of the rides falling apart). I remember eating cotton candy and elephant ears and all the candy I could collect from the exhibition barn (and the memories of being smacked with the free yard sticks Mom collected from there).
I remember the fair back home being this big, exciting event. Ours here, not so much. Maybe it's the sad reality of how urbanization is taking over everywhere. I know that up until about 10 years ago, the town we live in presently was pretty small; now it's just another suburb.
The classic lesson learned by my kids this year is that too much sugar will cause a belly ache (in a BIG way). Both kids snarfed down elephant ear, followed by funnel cake, and some cotton candy to wash it all down with. Now, my proud parenting moment is that I really wasn't paying too close attention to what all they were injesting- I was busy being social (what I do best), and they ate all this within 5 minutes. About an hour after we got home, one was complaining his stomach hurt, followed closely by the other also complaining his hurt. Then they both had one episode of diarrhea and felt immediately better. I really wanted to tell them, "And SEE?! I TOLD you that this would happen if you eat too much sugar!", but I couldn't (since it really was my fault more than theirs).
Monday was my first day back after a long break from the real world; a break filled with baking myself in the sun, where the biggest question of the day was when was high tide. 6:00 came way too early and I very groggily found myself trying to pull together something to wear and try to apply makeup and look semi-presentable...
Once at work, I found myself looking at a slew of emails (thanks to me forgetting to turn on my out-of-office message before leaving for vacation) and voicemails and (in theory) patient appointments... *Sigh* Back to work, I guess.
I find that every time I take off more than a day or two, the first week back is almost unbearable. I do enjoy my job (for the most part). I'm very thankful for having a job at all right now (considering what a mess the economy is and the ever-rising unemployment rate in my state). It's allowed me opportunities we'd otherwise not have (i.e. new house, vacations, paying bills on time)... Is this a normal feeling after vacation to absolutely loathe getting up and going to work? I'd vote "yes"...
Another not-so-welcome back to reality is that for the next two days, we will be living with the dust cloud associated with having our kitchen floor replaced again- for the third time. After talking with neighbors, though, I think that we've (so far) come off pretty lucky- many of them have had far-worse things that needed replaced or repaired. The thought of dust EVERYWHERE again, does send my OCD into overload, though. Thank God the cleaning lady's coming Friday to clean up the piles of dust I'm sure will be everywhere (that sounded really bad, I know- the thought of someone else cleaning up my mess- but that's another thing I'm thankful for: being able to afford some help in the housecleaning section)- I should pay her extra for dealing with the mess.
I'm sure the after-product will be well-worth the short-term mess we're going to have to look at. The floor still was bumpy after the last time they tried fixing it. Not to mention the huge gaps between planks... This is par for course when you build, I guess.
I'll post about vacation hopefully tonight; every night I've come home this week, cooked dinner, then collapsed on the couch by 9. The thought of getting on the computer is the LAST thing I've wanted to do. But I'll try to get some pics up tonight. My tan's already fading; I so miss the beach...
Here is a highlight of our vacation in Delaware so far- keep in mind that we're staying in a beach house about the size of our last apartment with our friends and their four kids...
"What time is it?" (because there are no clocks anywhere in not just our house, but anywhere in the town.
"Where did I put my (fill in the blank)?" (because it's inevitable that no matter where you put something originally, it's not there five minutes later)
"HOW many times have we told you to close the door when you're changing?!" (because there are members of my family who have no concept of what modesty is)
"HOW many times have we told you guys to spray after you go to the bathroom?!" (because there are many children who don't get that concept, either)
"What time is high tide?" (everyone seems to be fascinated by this "phenomenon"-- not sure why, but I think the kids think this means the water turns purple or something once high tide hits... Maybe I should tell them this and see how many buy it...
"What day is it?" (somehow I managed to skip over Tuesday without realizing it)
"My God, how much sand can you dump out of your swim suit onto the floor?!" (no need for explanation)
"Aidan! Personal space, Dude!" (once again, no explanation needed)
I will post at a later time more details (and pictures) from our vacation, as well as why I will never visit DC again (because every time I've gone there, something awful has happened). But now I'm off to the boardwalk or to walk the beach at night with my kids...
