Not that I mean that--because I don't really want to quit, but it would be nice for someone else to make the decisions for a while. When life gets stressful as it has these past few weeks (and don't get me wrong, it's gotten better and things are happening, balls are rolling, gears are shifting, shows are getting on the road, if you will) we often wax nostalgic for life when we didn't have to worry about adult decisions like car repair, health insurance, obstetric care, tuition, the neighbors below us that smoke on their porch and make all of our clothes smell--in short, we find ourselves saying things like, "wasn't life great when we were kids and didn't have to worry about ________."
The irony of course is that I remember, as a teenager repeating the inverse: "Won't life be great when we're adults and we can __________."
What's that expression about greener grass?
Life is good. Complicated, but good. Exhibit A.
The pool has been great. Both boys are in love with the water. Mr. Baseball is actually swimming on his own a little, and the monkey will jump in all on his own.
Before school started and the weather got cooler/windier, we were going several times a week.
dress up is a favorite game around here--especially if it involves weapons.
Mr. Baseball has learned how to play chess, and if I leave out a queen, knight, and bishop, we can actually play an interesting game.
More dress up. More weapons. There was a time when we didn't think we would have weapons in our house (foolish, foolish us). What's that expression from Jurassic park? Nature finds a way. Oh well, better plastic swords than vacuum attachments.
At some point a few weeks ago, I came in to wake the monkey from a nap and found him in the rocking chair. He'd moved from his bed at some point after I'd left him to fall asleep.
What do you mean we can't go swimming?
The apartment had a BBQ two weeks ago and Mr. Baseball taught this pinata a lesson. And we won a gift certificate to Texas Road House. Think steak. Think huge portions.
1 comment:
I share your sentiments about swearing off weapons - we did that too, and were successful until a BOY came along! It's amazing what that boy can transform into a weapon. And, like your family, we don't watch TV, so we've scratched our heads about where it comes from. I think there must be some sort of weapon-creating blueprints imbedded in the Y chromosome. After all, it did serve our cave-men ancestors well. :)
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