Flashback Friday!

UGH. It's mid-October, rushing headlong into LATE October already, and I haven't put up any pictures in 5,000 years because of reasons (mostly involving ways in which I suck). So today let's celebrate "Flashback Friday," where in this case we'll be flashing way the hell back to ... late August.

OF COURSE there was a slip-and-slide involved. Why wouldn't there be? It's not like we were at my uncle's house, in his backyard, where there is an in-ground pool with hot tub, or anything.

Isn't it kind of amazing how slip-and-slides are, like, the great social equalizer? I mean, sure, they're plastic-coated death traps, but have you ever met anyone who didn't have a great time at an event that featured a slip-and-slide?

I, personally, have not. I wish I had [1] a bigger yard and [2] actual water pressure so that I could put a slip-and-slide in my own backyard during the summer. I mean, we love watching "Adventure Time" while sitting in front of the giant-ass window air conditioner and eating popsicles, but sometimes you need to go out and make your own adventures, you know?

GUH, just looking at this pictures reminds me of how much I miss the summer already, and we have another nine months until it comes back around. This summer was weird, hot in the beginning and cool at the end and many kinds of sinus headaches in between, but the worst day of summer is still better than the best day of any other season except possibly my kid's birthday.

Okay, and maybe Christmas. I like Christmas. And Thanksgiving. I love Thanksgiving, too. Which reminds me: I just learned about bacon vodka and I am thinking about making bloody Marys to have with my Thanksgiving dinner that I'd make with our traditional V8 and bacon vodka, if I can find any. Doesn't hat sound delightful?

SHUT UP YES IT DOES. A bloody Mary made with V8 and bacon vodka sounds like Thanksgiving dinner in a goddamned glass. Veggies, bacon, and alcohol, all in a Dixie cup? That there equals ZERO clean-up, and if I have TWO I'd be asleep on my uncle's couch before everybody else even got home from the football game.

I also like Halloween, because I love Reese's peanut butter pumpkins. Although I will admit that, except for possibly pumpkin pie, which I adore (just the the crust -- only the pumpkin custard and whipped cream parts), I am kind of over pumpkin everything right now. But pumpkin-shaped chocolates? Yes please.

So here we are, face to face, a couple of Silver Spoons ... no, wait, that isn't right. Here we are, all caught up. Ish. I have more pictures to put up but I need to ease myself into it. For now, just enjoy this little flashback to the Last Major Federal Holiday. Hopefully this will be enough to get you through until next time.

(Oh hey I just realized there are no pictures of me as usual but I wanted to prove that I was participating in the festivities. So, [1] you can either pretend those pictures of my sister are actually me, or [2] you can enjoy this screen print of a Twitter conversation I had with an actual NPR personality. Your choice.)

Coast of Carolina

Oh yeah ... vacation. We've been home for more than a month, so it's probably time to put some pictures up, isn't it?

Truth be told, I haven't written about vacation yet because I'm practicing my usual Zennish strategy of better living through denial. It's like, if I pretend that vacation isn't over yet, then it isn't.

It was our usual family vacation: a chaotic mess of early rising, child limbs, Crocs, pancakes, ice cream, tantrums, Disney movies, mismatched outfits, and missing pacifiers -- and that was all on the first morning.

The weather wasn't the greatest, too hot the first few days and almost too cold after that, and the ocean was cold even by my standards (in the mid-60s, which -- look, I can tolerate A LOT, but I draw the line at hypothermia on vacation, you know?), but we barely even noticed, to be honest.

All the kids were just phenomenal. My sister's boys get more awesome every day, my niece is just the bee's knees, my kid was fairly well behaved most of the time ...

... there are even a couple of photos with ME in them, for a change, although let's be honest here and admit that I have GOT to learn how to pose so that I don't look like I'm made up of, like, 75% boobs and back fat.

I always hesitate to say that I can't wait to do it again, because that's such a gigantic understatement. I'm ready to go on vacation again pretty much the second we get in the car to come home. If I ruled the world and could do whatever I wanted, I'd arrange it so that we could all be together whenever we wanted, always.

Are we going back there, to the coast of Carolina?

As soon as possible.

PS - If you're interested in seeing ALL my vacation photos (all the good ones, anyway), you can view them here, including the Instagrams. If I can figure out how, I'll add my sisters' pictures, too.

Wordless Wednesday: Sunshine on a Cloudy Day

I Am The Worst #SorryNotSorry

MY GOD. I am terrible at blogging, which is probably why I'm never going to get a gajillion dollar book deal like Lena Dunham or Aziz Ansari. (Also, they're talented, and I'm ... whatever I am.) You could sue me over the lack of updates, but remember that I'm a broke-ass graduate student with basically NOTHING except a 12-year-old Volkswagen with 185,000 miles on it. Good luck with that.

Pretty much everybody else in the entire blogosphere (is that still a thing, even?) is doing back-to-school posts this week, but Shae doesn't start school until the Wednesday after Labor Day -- next week -- so I'll take this chance to let you know what we've been up to since mid-July when I posted last, and then I'll put up first-day-at-her-new-school pictures when they're taken, and then I'll probably forget I even HAVE a blog for, like, eleventeen weeks at a time. Again.

I mean, I went back to school this week -- my last semester of classes before student teaching, I'm scared, hold me -- but Shae is basically off having adventures with assorted relatives until next Tuesday. Yesterday and today she's with my mother-in-law, getting unauthorized haircuts and mani-pedis and stuff like that, while I'm freebasing caffeine because I'd forgotten how INSANE it is to get up at 6:00 in the morning and got to work and then go to class until 9:30 at night and THEN try to drive home without crashing into a cornfield/cow pasture while driving through the dark, quiet Butter Valley. That is a long-ass day, people.

But, you know, honey badger don't care. Tonight we're going to see her for a very short while before we shuffle her off to the next volunteer, who has been threatening for months to take Shae fishing. That ought to be interesting, because my kid has the same attitude about creatures with fewer than two and greater than four legs that I do (i.e., ewwww!). Then tomorrow night she'll be staying with my parents, who have a tent in the backyard and hopefully gallons of DDT, because the mosquitoes love my kid this year.

I miss her desperately, you know. And I'm so very, very jealous.

[ Something Witty Should Appear Here ]

AAAAUUUUGGGGHHHH.

It's hot and humid and I have a sinus headache and my kid is watching some trippy "educational" programming on HBO that involves talking dancing shoelaces (!!!) and I have an 8-page Canterbury Tales paper due at 3:00 on Monday and my brain is basically completely fried.

So here: have some random, almost completely decontextualized pictures!

This is from before 4th of July. I may be alone in this, but I think there is basically nothing in the world more adorable than a wet child in neon colors who smells of Coppertone and chlorine screaming for joy. This is pretty much my happy place, right here. The only thing that would making this picture better, IMNSHO, would be if (1) this were my own kid, and (2) neons were not involved. I lived through the original mid-1980s neon fad, and I am not so excited about this day-glo revival, because I have eyeballs, and I'd like to keep them.

I would like to find the bozobrain who taught my kid the word "chillax" and punch them in the neck (unless it's a kid, in which case I'd like to punch his parent in the neck). Otherwise, camp has been a rousing success so far -- even though (1) Shae doesn't quite understand the words "boa" and "constrictor," although she DOES understand the concept of one, and (2) this picture was taken at my grandmother's.

This bubble is approximately 8,000 years old. Shae used to wear it. Of course, I can't find pictures of Shae wearing it because I never tagged any photos or blog posts with "bubble."

These pictures are actually from July 4th. And, it's a good thing my sister is teaching my niece to play pinochle now, at a very young age, because I am 39 years old and I still don't know how to bid. I am basically the world's least competent card shark. (I'm great at spades, though.)

This what July 4th looked like -- an ENTIRE DAY of my crazy kid being crazy. It was pretty awesome, actually, although it was too damned hot.

I included this picture for no particular reason except that I love these two.

Graduation / Recital Weekend

Shae graduated from kindergarten on June 14th. I've been trying to write about it since then, but I haven't really been able to, because this happened ...

... and it promptly (and repeatedly) made me lose my ever-loving shit.

"Tomorrow" is totally my jam, you guys. It is dorky and irrational and whatever, but this song has gotten me through SO MUCH in the last 39 years. I saw "Annie" on Broadway way back when I was somewhere around Shae's age, and it's stuck with me all that time. Formative years, and whatnot. "Tomorrow" is not just adorable when sung by a bunch of adorable little moppets -- it's practically anthemic.

No, seriously. I know my soul has become blackened and singed and poisoned with snark over the years (SPOILER ALERT: this is what happens to optimistic idealists who forcibly become cynical realists over time) but when stuff is bad, I mean REALLY bad, I still stick out my chin and grin and say, "The sun'll come out tomorrow." It doesn't make everything better, not right away, but it keeps me from self-medicating, a lot of the time.

Related: had I known that the class's performance was going to be SO MOVING (shut up I'm a sap we all know this already don't you judge me), then I would have left her hair in its natural state, because COME ON. Her curls are PERFECT for singing songs from "Annie."

They are not quite as perfect for fitting under a graduation cap, however. (I just realized I never posted any pictures from last year's preschool graduation, probably because we had that tragic, tragic haircut and then we left pretty much right away for Chicago, but here's a link for reference. We have about 33% fewer teeth this year, not that you can tell, but we're offsetting that by about 500% more hair, so I'd call that pretty much a wash.)

As if graduation wasn't enough of an emotional wringer, Shae's first official dance recital was they very next day. She's already been in a Christmas pageant of sorts, but this was the first Big One: costumes, lighting, tickets, flowers, etc. Her class danced to "I Feel Pretty," which was another emotional rollercoaster for me, because one of the greatest times of my life was being in West Side Story in college, so of course the entire thing was fraught with DRAMEMORIES!

Everybody came to see her -- mother-in-law, parents, my sister and niece and even my brother-in-law -- so my kid was pretty much over the moon about all of the attention. She's already talking about next year. We ordered official pictures and the performance DVD and whatnot, and I'll figure out how to include that stuff later without violating copyrights (no lie, I am SCARED of the lady who runs the dance school and I DO NOT want her to come after me), but here is a little behind-the-scenes footage in the meantime:

(By the way, ALL the girls in her class did that, for 45 MINUTES, while they were waiting to go on in the second half of the show. I got dizzy just watching them.)

Sum-Sum-Summertime!

These pictures are from Memorial Day Weekend, which is of course not technically summer, but it is unofficially the beginning of the summer picnic-watermelon-outdoor-swimming-corn-on-the-cob-festivity season.

Go ahead, guess which of these hyphenates are most important to my kid?

It's been a weird spring so far -- nice, but cool at night. My uncle the Picnic Master opened his pool the first weekend in May, but temperatures went down into the 40's a lot of nights until about two weeks ago. Thankfully he has the hot tub, and once my kid got in there, there was no getting her out.

 

Except to go off the diving board. Mad props to her, too, because the water in the main pool was only about 64°F. But she passed her "big kid" swimming class, and now we'll let her go into the deep end without an adult present (although someone needs to be nearby to watch her). You'd think someone gave her a million dollars and a free puppy.

Night at the Musuem 2: Battle of the Smithsonian

Or, in other words, a round-up of the rest of the Washington photos.

Of course we went to the Museum of Natural History. All the cool stuff is there. (Well, all the cool stuff that isn't in the Air and Space Museum or the Museum of American History or any of the other Smithsonian museums.)

I dig this stuffed lion, because it looks like he has armpit hair.

"Mommy, I don't think I want a hippopotamus for Christmas any more."

This is the part where you're supposed to see all these cool pictures of gorgeous jewelry. But they didn't work, so instead, here's a picture of some kind of gilded butterfly brooch that is probably worth more than my house, my parents' house, and my entire family's houses combined. Hope it's worth it!

The Washingtonienne

(You know what? The Washingtonienne is a terrible book. Don't read it. It's so bad I'm not even going to link to it. You can Google it if you want to, but don't say I didn't warn you. Nevertheless, it's a perfectly fine title for a blog post about my female child in D.C., so I'm using it.)

We're a month back from Washington and I already have pictures from Memorial Day weekend in my photostream, so it's time to get back to the action, no?

The day after we went to the zoo -- the same day my sister ran the Nike Women Half Marathon D.C. -- we slept in until the absolutely ungodly hour of 7:30 AM, and then we wandered the National Mall looking for the Au Bon Pain that the "Around Me" app on BOTH our iPhones kept promising was only 0.25 miles away. "We'll see what we can see before we stop for lunch," we said.

We headed around the Tidal Basin and stopped to visit the Jefferson Memorial, my second-favorite monument in D.C. We were too late for the Cherry Blossom Festival, unfortunately -- that ended about two weeks before we were there, because apparently I am incapable of scheduling my life around anything I actually want to do -- but you know, the entire Mall is quite lovely at that time of year, and since it was a Sunday morning, we didn't have to compete for photo opps with field trips.

This is just proof that I do stuff besides stand around for 45 minutes trying to frame up the best possible pictures. Sometimes I spent 45 minutes walking around buildings making someone else frame up the best possible pictures.

"Look, Mom! President Obama lives there!" (Waves furiously, I guess at the snipers on the roof? IDK.)

The way we walked, our next monument was the FDR Memorial, which is my very favorite place in D.C. It's very zen there, all water and copper and pretty dark stone, and I love it. Especially this statue, which features the dog ...

... and this staute of my homegirl Eleanor, which I actually DID wait about 45 minutes to get a picture of, because there were a whole bunch of tourists who kept walking into my shot, right up the statue, to LICK it. Seriously, WHO DOES THAT? This statue is OUTSIDE, and hundreds of people touch it every day. GROSS.

"Mommy, can you see if the brakes are on?"

The last time we were in D.C., the MLK Memorial was not yet erected. It is really quite something else, although I will never understand the choice of materials here. (You can link to whatever sources in the comments if you want, but I still won't understand the logic.)

The Lincoln Memorial is my third-favorite. I don't really know why I like Jefferson better -- I think it's the shape and the location. The Lincoln Memorial just seems so ... somber, maybe? More hallowed? Something. There are "ghosts" in there, is what I think I am saying.

(Incidentally, this was my first trip to D.C. with a good camera. That shot? Is all camera, except for cropping. I love my Precious.)

Another 45-minute setup, because there was open space, and BY GOD, this kid was going to RUN AROUND. I am not one of those people who puts "harnesses" on their children, but I can sometimes kind of see the point.

Under construction. (Renovations? Repairs?) Still damned impressive.

At this point she was trying to figure out how to fish change out of the Reflecting Pool so that we could go get something to eat. And to tie everything back to the Au Bon Pain - it isn't there. Or, at least, it isn't where the app told us it would be. We spent another hour or so looking for all these restaurants that Around Me kept saying were nearby -- 0.15 miles, 0.07 miles, 500 feet, 100 feet -- and it finally took a leap of faith and a DESPERATE need for a public restroom for us to discover that all the eateries were actually in the food court of the federal office building across the street from the aquarium in the Department of Commerce building.

No, I don't know why the aquarium is in the Department of Commerce building. I'm sure it made sense to SOMEONE at SOME POINT.

The other big bits of excitement on that day were that we got to ride (1) the Metro and (2) the Smithsonian carousel. Which, after 6 hours and approximately 5½ miles of walking around, are all she remembers anyway.