Sometimes those balls just get dropped. You don’t even know you’ve done it until you’re halfway into your day and it strikes you like lightning – holy crap, I totally forgot to handle this. The best you can hope for is that it isn’t for something life or death. Thankfully, yesterday’s I-can’t-believe-I-dropped-that-one moment was more ridiculous than calamitous.
As a result, though, our family’s gone off the grid for the weekend. It’s kind of nice, actually, and a good way to celebrate our last baby’s graduation moving on to middle school. I hope all of you have a wonderfully restful June weekend, and I’ll catch up with you soon.
Let’s just say finding out I’m the neighborhood freak around here wouldn’t exactly be the shock of the decade.
“Once in a while, a thought occurs to me. It’s not always a good one, but at least it is a thought.
I once saw an episode of ‘The King of Queens’ where Carrie turns to Doug with the revelation, ‘WE’RE he neighborhood freaks!!’ Of course, they were outside their house, having a shouting match regarding some outlandish predicament while the neighbors were hiding behind their curtains.
It hasn’t quite come to that, but I fear it’s only a matter of time.”
I’ve written about a number of experiences that sit firmly on my One-and-Done list…things I was adventurous enough to try but am not stupid enough to repeat. You can check out my run-ins with scuba diving, deep sea fishing, parasailing, and helicopters if you feel like trolling through the archives.
But today? Today we’re gonna talk about speedboats and inflatables.
I’ve been pouring my heart and soul onto this blog for a while…ups and downs, highs and lows, everything from shining moments to face first in the dirt fiascos. I’m sure it must be glaringly apparent by now that life has brought a healthy mix of miracle and madness my way.
So I doubt any of you will be surprised by my crazy cluster %#@! of a story today.
“I have no idea how you do it – I can’t even get dinner on the table.”
“I’d love to but my calendar is just too full.”
I’ve talked about how so many of us feel like we’re burning the candle at both ends, and the power of learning to say no so you can focus on your true passions.
Laura Vanderkam at The New York Times took another look, though. It was a very thorough one, too, analyzing her own time over a twelve month period. The results were somewhat startling.
“By getting some perspective on my life, I hoped I could figure out ways to make it better.
So I logged on a spreadsheet in half-hour blocks every one of the 8,784 hours that make up a leap year. I didn’t discover a way to add an extra hour to every day, but I did learn that the stories I told myself about where my time went weren’t always true. The hour-by-hour rhythm of my life was not quite as hectic as I’d thought.”
There are times when you can hide the crazy from the neighbors. Long, hot days with the windows open is not one of them.
Welcome back! Once again, it’s summertime here in Michigan, and the temperatures will soon begin to climb. You might remember that we, your favorite neighbors (HAHAHAHAHAHA) do not have air conditioning and will have every window open in our house 24/7 from now until mid-September. This means that you’ll once again be treated to VIP access to the shit show that is our regular family life, as we are a family of loud talkers. I’d like to take this opportunity to remind you of a few things about our family that will, if not explain what you’ll hear coming from within our house, at least give you a little background info to help you paint a more accurate picture when you’re retelling the story to the people who live further down the street.”
I didn’t think it was possible for our girl Gracie to actually stop my heart anymore. After all, I’ve lived with her antics for almost five years now.
I’ve seen her through food thievery, ingesting inedible objects, battles over socks, and even the mother of all Oh $#@!moments when I seriously wondered if my dad would strangle her. What else could she possibly throw at me?
Oh, woe is me…November birthdays roll us right into the holiday season. At least three family Christmas celebrations in 25 days. Neighborhood and company and classroom parties, teacher gifts, plus (last but not least) pulling off the whole Christmas gift thing with the kids.
So December seems like a natural choice for the month most likely to kick my ass. This is probably why May takes me by surprise. Every. Single. Year.