I’m really digging this vacation business. I’ve been here for, what, three days and I haven’t had to reach for the chill-pills yet. Usually by now I’m completely stressed out about my kids acting like wild animals and everyone judging me for being shitty mom.
Not that anyone does, well, maybe they do but no one has ever been anything but supportive so I’m willing to give it a possibility that it is 100% in my head, like most things. Hell, I don’t want to go there. I’m having a good time.
The kids have been tying each other up. I suppose it’s some kind of variation on the cowboys and indians role playing like my generation engaged in as children. Everyone likes tying up their friends, right? Only now, instead of getting roasted on the bonfire, you get kissed by your cousins.
Blue is still proving himself to be well-behaved and a good house-guest, with the exception of his penchant for early waking and hyper-alterness (i.e. “sounding the alert”) at 5 a.m. I wish I had brought a couple more dog beds, though. The tiled floors and hard on his bones, being very sleepy and bony dog.
The boys have become very resourceful about finding ways to entertain themselves. For instance, their latest endeavor has been perfecting their knot tying skills … so they can tie up their cousins.
I came across Larissa tied up (ineffectually I might add) with clothes they had raided from the girls’ closet. This didn’t go over too well. By morning they had honed their technique and had Perry tied to a chair. He didn’t seem too upset by it since he had his iPhone and was able to communicate with the outside world.
Maggie and Ellie showed up this afternoon, the daughters of Lonny’s brother. I just couldn’t wait to hug Maggie when she strolled down the dock and interrupted a battle royale that had recently ended, as these things always do, in tears.
It was tall, heavy people versus short, light people. This distinction was necessitated by me declaring the raft property of The Grownups And No Child Shall Board but the kids objected on the grounds that Alicia, Larissa and Perry weren’t grown-ups, they were teenagers which is practically a kid.
Fine. We’ll do it by height and weight if you want to be sticklers for detail.
I’m so excited to have Ellie and Maggie here. I have been dying to congratulate Maggie in person for earning her doctorate at Berkeley and immediately landing a two-year fellowship and Harvard (woot!) and then an Assistant Professorship at Princeton (Woot! Woot!).
She’s kinda smart and I’m related to her by marriage, which makes me smart(er) by association. At least that’s what I like to tell myself.
This excites me because, for as much as I love Perry and his step-father Roy, we have different political opinions. I can’t argue politics (or anything) with any conviction so I’ve been running out of the room whenever they get started on their “What’s wrong with this country is healthcare reform and immigrants,” thing. Did I mention that Perry is a master debater? It’s true. He wins competitions.
But now that Maggie is here, she can be the champion of the Left. She has no problem taking on her father and step-brother. Unlike me, her arguments don’t consist of, “Well, that’s not what I heard on the radio.” or “I read somewhere that …” and then get frustrated and start to cry.
I just stand behind her all, “Yeah! What she said!” and “In your FACE!”
Zeb’s family doesn’t have any rules about not arguing about politics and religion. We all agree on the religion thing (being Atheists) but the politics thing gets ugly. They seem to enjoy it but seriously, I hate it when people fight, even as sport. Unless I’ve got money on the winning team.
I take Kablooey out every morning for a walk and talk to an East Coast friend (because it’s too early to call anyone in the West with the time change).
I had a wonderful conversation with Elizabeth of The El Studio this morning. She encouraged me to tag my posts with “guns, shooter, terrorism” because I will get more hits, most likely from the FBI. Whatever, I’ll try it. It can’t be worse than the pervs who search “giant black cock” only to get a post about chickens.
She also tried to talk me into white water rafting in Virginia because, even though her son almost died, my kids would probably like it. Okaaay.
So, who will I call next?
Look at this Magnolia Granda Flora (or Southern Magnolia). Gorgeous, isn’t it?