Thank God It’s Monday
I never thought I would see myself write that but, with the busy weekend we had, I can’t help but be grateful for a day with a set routine even if it means a day at work.
The Girl had a splendid birthday which accounts for a vast majority of the weekend’s events. Thursday evening, we hosted dinner for Hugh’s family and, while we were enjoying our lasagna, the teenaged girls from my service club’s sister organization were busily adorning our front lawn with fifty plastic pink flamingos. The girls do the ‘flockings” as a fundraiser for their organization; people pay both to rent the flock and to have it removed.
The Girl has been fascinated by the flockings since they began a few years ago and she routinely reports on the flock’s whereabouts when she spies it around town so, I had a feeling that she would get a kick out having it visit her on her special day and, I was right. She discovered the birds Friday morning when taking Rowdie out for his morning break and she was so excited, she forgot what the birds were called and yelled "Mom! We got flocked! There are pigeons on our lawn!".
Giant pink pigeons, could you imagine? That is an acid trip gone wrong, my friends.
Not that I know. I mean, I never went on an acid trip. I swear Dad; I never. Um, where was I?
Later that day, Hugh surprised her with the delivery of a balloon bouquet, I took cupcakes to her class, she had five friends over for a slumber party at a local hotel where we ordered pizza and swam in the pool and I took all six girls plus the Man-Cub and one of his friends and Hugh’s twin nephews (who were visiting from Maine) to see The Bridge to Terabithia.
That would be ten children for those of you playing at home. And, yes, I am certifiable.
Needless to say, the child’s eleventh birthday was memorable and not just because the movie managed to make every single child cry (which is what they get for not reading the book like some people did back in the fifth grade).
Saturday morning, I dropped the girls off at their respective homes and high-tailed it to the school gym for the Man-Cub’s first wrestling tournament of the season. He wrestled very well, taking home a medal for second place.
Then I went home and took a nap.
Oh, I wish. No, I spent the rest of the day supervising the Cub and a friend whom he had invited to spend the night. I also frosted a three-layer checkerboard cake for dinner that night at Oscar and Emily’s, started the first of eighty-five gazillion loads of laundry, cleaned the house and dispensed medicine to The Girl who had caught a cold somewhere between the swimming pool and the movie theater.
By the time we got home from the family dinner later that night, I was exhausted and looking forward to a good night’s sleep. Sadly, that was not meant to be as the Cub’s friend became sick during the night and his parents were rather slow in arriving to retrieve him, giving me just under five hours of sleep for the night and bringing my two-day total to just under ten hours.
What? You think those girls slept during their sleep-over?
Sunday morning, we said goodbye to Hugh’s brother and his family as they headed back to Maine and I thought; at last, a nap! But, no. I still had laundry to do and a trip to the grocery store to make.
While we were at the grocery store, Hugh accidentally hit Rowdie while moving his car in our drive-way so we got to spend an hour at the emergency vet clinic. Then we got to go home and worry and fret over the puppy since our regular vet was out of town until this morning.
Grand total of sleep for the entire weekend, fourteen hours. Go, me!
Rowdie is at our regular vet now. He has a fracture in his femur and will have to have surgery to repair it. Hugh feels, as you would expect, completely awful even though it was not his fault. Accidents happen and, with any luck, the dog has now learned that “stay” means, well, stay.
On the brighter side, the weekend taught us that my car is far too small to transport our children’s ginormous collection of friends. Also, a back-up sensor would be a solid investment; car shopping begins tomorrow.
Tonight, I sleep.
On a side note, my baby sister emailed me just to tease me about the fabulous maternity smock that I was pictured wearing in my last post. I am too tired to defend my fashion sense right now. Maybe tomorrow.
Who am I kidding? I have no defense for that outfit.