That makes me giggle. Believe me, I am not becoming more mature or less impressed with scatalogical or vaginal humor thanks to this book. You should read it, but only if you won’t judge me and my love of it.
Anyway. This is what’s been happening in our neck of the woods.
a friendly reminder
Because I inherited a set of sub-par genes, I needed to have fasting blood work done. I am a coffee fiend, so Matt left me this kind note to remind my morning-zombie self to abstain.Then he gottheeffout before he had to deal with me.
Trey Anastasio Band
The morning after!
My dear friend (and concert partner) and I once took Colby to see Phish in Portland, ME on a school night. Neither my mother nor his teacher were impressed. But hey! Family values! We all do things differently. We see music. This most recent time, though, fortuitously occurred on a long weekend. It was lovely and affirming and Colby slept the whole way home so Angie and I could gossip.
Working time.
I’m not exactly sure what’s going on here, but I obviously thought it was photo worthy. Sometimes I have to be the foreman on our homework, work-site. It’s, uh, not so much fun.
Love.
And I read this book. And also this book. And this one. And another one that was meh. The one book you all need to buy and read, though, is We Were the Kennedys by Monica Wood. I took a class in memoir with Monica while she was writing it, and I smiled as I read because I could recognize her method as so completely her. She tells the story of an industrial Maine town, but at the same time she tells the story of every industrial town. This is a story for everyone who witnessed the end to a simpler way of life, and for everyone who wonders what that life could have been like. Buy it in hardcover, because you will read it many times.
the things I can get away with here!
My friend Jane let me babysit her delightful little girl. I promptly fed her sugar, got her dirty, let her dress herself, and whisked her off to a rowdy middle-school basketball game. It was the best day ever.
on the court
And when did my boy turn into a middle-schooler anyway? No fair.
All Saint’s Catholic School International Fair 2013
One of my favorite parenting books says that whenever you have doubts about your children (say you suspect they are heading down that road of sociopathic behavior or maybe that they are learning how to be drug dealers when you’re in the other room on facebook), anyway, the book says when you have doubts you should observe your child in his or her natural environment. When you have a school-aged child, that environment is pretty much anywhere that is not home and not directly involving you. International Fair night made me feel better. Much better. Phew. Even though I could use some – nevermind.
Colby’s favorite baby
My friends Megan and Justin are new members of the parental clan, and Colby loves their baby. As do I. Just look at his little shadow!
Animal!
Colby attended his first District V festival with his school’s jazz band. They were awesome, of course, and scored well enough to compete again at the end of this month. Wish them luck!
Camp kitchen
Catan, yo.
My fish, Bella, my fish.
Boys dutifully writing in the camp journal.
Everyone has finally realized that when I say “I’m NEVER going ice fishing again”, I mean it. I am, though, quite happy to cook on the wood stove and read books while the boys are out fishing. Also, peeing outside when it’s 20 degrees provides perspective you can’t get anywhere else.
Colby and his friend Cam
Oh, me and Chops.
We took in the last game played in the Bangor Auditorium. It didn’t hurt to see my alma mater (and a group of wonderful young men, some former students of mine) win the gold ball.
Sam goes to the vet. Her little wagging tail says “I love Veazie Vet Clinic”!
Bella is just plain happy. All smiles.
And Colby outgrows the pediatrician’s exam table.
I do not support the ‘Joe-Dirt Impersonator’ career option.
Game over.
Matt grew his hair out all winter. This was fine until he decided to cut his own bangs one morning. Any woman who has ever cut her own bangs knows exactly what happened next. They sprung up. It looked as if he had either passed out by the fire and they were burned off OR he had passed out on the couch and had bacon grease in them so the dogs chewed them off. It was horrific. I couldn’t even look at him. When he finally agreed to cut his hair I went to bed, dejected, he had refused to just. go. get. a. fucking. haircut. He woke me up 30 minutes later with the joe dirt mullet and blacked out tooth. I went back to bed, sure that I would have to deal with Joe in the morning. Much to my surprise, I woke to find a nearly normal looking human next to me. I finally won. Heather-1, Matt- 87.
I like to grade wearing my Pink Floyd snuggie. Thanks to all my awesome freshmen who picked it out!
but being comfortable doesn’t make me more tactful
ahh.
I am coming back to my mat thankfully and more frequently these days. We have an interlude of a slower-paced life in-between sports seasons, and I plan on making good use of it.
That’s it for now, friends. I have a piece of salmon to turn into supper and a kiddo who needs cold medicine and a new box of tissues.
