Catching up.

Has it really been two weeks?  I guess it has.  Life happens like that sometimes and life has certainly happened to me.  To us.  Grab a chair and a cocktail and turn on some music.  We’ll get all caught up here in a minute.

Summer is clicking by ever so slowly.  The kids have been out of school for nearly two months and the honeymoon is over. So, so over.  I can tell the Littles are growing up because they scrap and fight all day long.  You know, when they are not each other’s best friend.  Now this is familiar territory.  I remember sibling fighting and friending very clearly.  What I need to remind myself is that my sister and I are now very, very close despite all the childhood smack talking and attention grabbing and the Littles, I am sure, will have the same relationship.

Ella turned seven last Friday.  I know.  I have kept someone in my house alive for seven whole years.  It is a dubious milestone, sadly.  She is still very small for seven years old.  I had her to the pediatrician last week and she’s tenth percentile for height.  Tiny.  Poor thing.  I’ve always wished for two more inches (and who hasn’t, really) but I think she’s going to be lucky to break five feet tall at this point. 

I was going to do another letter to Ella like I did last year but A) I think it’s Amelia’s turn and 2) I wasn’t home.  Not at all that day.

The Littles went to visit Stephen’s mom for the weekend so I could work and so she could spoil and snuggle them without me around to be a giant buzz kill.  I know they have fun there but it’s going to take me at least a week to get them back in line.  (It’s a line…a crooked line.)  And my house exploded with birthday detritus.  Barbies and paint by number and puzzles and tie blankets and matching kick scooters.  Dresses.  Doll accessories.  How fun for them.

Reminds me that I need to schedule a garage sale.  Not for this stuff.  I’m not nearly that mean.  No, for all the outgrown toys of birthdays past.

Ella is auditioning for MIssoula Children’s Theatre tomorrow.  They are bringing The Jungle Book to our town.  I guess last year 200 kids auditioned and they cast 60.  Ella is convinced she’s going to get a lead.  I just hope she’s one of the 60.  She’s been talking about it for months, even to the point of inviting strangers at the grocery store (back in March when it was announced) to get tickets and come see her.  Like I said, months of this.  Makes me think of Tina Fey’s prayer for her daughter, “Dear God, lead her away from drama but not as far as finance.” 

Although if they ask her to do jazz hands, she’s all set.  Oh my.  What have I done?

Anyway the Littles went visiting for the weekend so I could work an outdoor BBQ and music festival for three days.  Three jungle humid, Africa hot days.

I am chafed in places we will not discuss.  I have a mosquito bite on the palm of my hand (among other, equally odd places) and I have a very mild sunburn.  I look like hamburger and I’m still mildly dehydrated I’m sure.  But, any day I get to work is a good day.  I can’t complain.  Beggars…choosers…that whole thing.

Remember how I asked for prayers?  Well there must be an unknown plan because I didn’t get what I wanted.  That was part of the anniversary week trauma and the (hopefully not permanent) liver damage that followed the next weekend.  You know, the holiday weekend that lasted an extra day.  That was the damage part.  Two days?  I got this.  Three?  I need detox. 

School starts one month from today and I am faced with another long school year not consistently being a productive member of society.  I am more than a little bugged by this event.  You just never know what’s going to come up but I have been home for seven years (mostly) and I am done.  I am a better mother and a better friend and better mentally when I am working.

Unless it’s working in jungle-like conditions.  And then I am not nice at all.

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