Long weekends are the best and I'm having a hard time this morning, as one does, getting back to it. We were late to school again this morning, which is somehow always the case. Even if kids are dressed and lunches are packed by 7:30. There's always SOMETHING keeping us from leaving the house at 7:55. This morning it was a broken Burj Khalifa. Which had to be repaired on the spot or else THE WORLD WOULD SURELY END! And I suck at Legos. Oh, man, do I ever suck at Legos. I no longer permit myself to even try to help Archer build anything that requires directions because I cry. I cry and I yell and I become this insane person. All because of Legos.
And this morning as we were running late and Fable's piling on her third layer of clothing (complete with princess gloves, sunglasses and a skirt under a dress under another skirt), I reminded Archer that I'm not allowed to help with Legos anymore.
"Oh. Yeah. I forgot."
But we were still late. Because... of course we were.
At our school there are two very distinct groups of parents: the ones who have it all together, who are never late, who are camped out in front of the school with coffee-boxes and various tables collecting money, and then there's the "flaky late-dropper-offers". And the together coffee-table-donation parents are not our fans. I found this out whilst perusing the lost and found for one of Archer's six lost jackets. (The only jacket he hasn't lost is his brown corduroy jacket that I'm pretty sure he'll find a way to wear until he's ninety-six.)
Anyway. As I was perusing lost and found, one of the other parents was organizing... the lost and found...and she basically called me out on the spot for not being more involved. Which, she's right. I'm not. Last year, I vollunteered every other week in Archer's class but this year is a very different story and even if it wasn't, SOME PEOPLE DO NOT LIKE TO ORGANIZE LOST AND FOUNDS. And here's the thing, I am totally appreciative of other people's time. But clubs and committees of any kind give me anxiety. I am the mom at the school with her hood over her head. Perfectly comfortable among kids but basically terrified of their parents. I'd rather donate more than my share to the fundraiser than donate two minutes of my time to the committee doing the fundraising. And that makes me a type-A leper with the type-A moms.
Anyway, we were late this morning... again and as I watched Archer sprint toward the entrance of his school I wanted to cry. Because there he was again. Running. ALWAYS running, with his little backpack bouncing and his arms waving, parting the sea of socializing parents on his way through the door. Like every. other. day.
WHY CAN'T WE EVER BE ON TIME! Why can't I ever be on time!
"It's okay, Mom. I don't care," Archer says.
"I don't care either," Fable says but only because Archer said it first.
"But you're LATE every. single. day."
"But I can run really fast!"
Leave to Archer to turn my mishaps into some kind of positive in the category of... fitness?
Anyway. Back to this week's happenings. Much like last week, I spent a lot of time carrying babies around, in the below pictures' case, sleeping ones.
(rockabye babies on my she top)
We had our home inspection on Tuesday which went pretty well. We'll need to patch a few things here and replace a few things there but pipes and chimneys and roofs all in all are pretty close to grand.
On Friday I spent some time with the contractor going over what we wanted to (eventually) do with the house and get his estimates on what would cost where. (Garage needs to be completely rebuilt if we want to convert it into an office, which we do. Kitchen needs major renovation including the knock-down of a wall. Closets are all teeny tiny so we'll likely need to convert one of the closets into something... at least a BIT bigger. Windows needs some repairing, roof will need some re-do in a few years and we'll need to put in a new heating and air-conditioning system, fix a chimney base, do some retiling) But none of that scares me like I thought it would. I'm plotting and planning and sketching and searching and loving every minute of every walk-through with various contractorspector people.
I posted a metric ton of baby photos yesterday and I know I should probably leave it at that, but someday Bo-Potato and Revi-Coconut (which Archer and Fable call their sisters) will be huge and grown up and this will be all there is... so let's keep dancing.
(And Fable, who is still kind of a baby... ish?)
My parents came up for the long weekend instead of us going down to visit them. It's too hard to travel even short distances right now so they trek north every few weeks so we can all be together and my mom can hug babies until she's blue in the face.
On Sunday we took the big kids to The Lorax premiere, which we were fortunate enough to attend thanks to a friend of ours who worked on a film. You wouldn't know it by the below picture but we had a great time. Premieres are pretty exciting, especially when they serve cotton candy, cake pops and have cookie decorating stations.
... and face painting.
The movie was wonderful and intense and I cried through the whole thing because watching trees get cut down is the worst, even if they're animated trees that look like candy. And by the time the credits rolled and the words "unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot, nothing is going to get better... it's not" rolled across the black screen, I was done for. Weeping in my 3-D glasses. (Warning: you might, too.)
The kids weren't familiar with The Lorax which was our fault. We should have read them the story before we saw the film as to brief them on what is and has always been, a very dark, upsetting story. Not that they were scared, just a little sad that "bad guys can be so bad"... But in the car, on the way home, we discussed the film and what was happening and what it meant and how sometimes "bad guys" are just "lost guys. Or girls..." Anyway. It was a great day and lead that led to an even greater car-convo for which I am very appreciative. (Thanks for the tickets, Jackson!)
Every evening we go on a family walk. It's become our version of the family dinner, which has become pretty much impossible these days with two babies, both of whom are awake and want to be held continuously between the hours of five and eight. But with Hal's new job and him being home most nights at four instead of 7:00 we have some time before dinner to get out for thirty minutes as a family and go 'a walkin.
just the eight of us
That's one of my favorite parts of being a grown-up. You get to create your own traditions, design your own family time, whether it's on a train or in a plane, in a house or with a mouse, on a boat or with a goat, late to school or in a pool, the possibilities are out there and they're endless.