We drive to the hill.
My car almost gets stuck in the snow.
There is this hill by our neighborhood pool. At the top of the hill there are tennis courts. At the bottom of the hill is the parking lot. This hill must be 45 feet wide and 15 feet up. There are stairs leading up to the tennis court area on the left.
I take one picture. This one.
Ian takes his first run down the hill he immediately flips over and hits his head on the stairs.
Somedays I cannot believe how busy we are around here. Between scouts, choir, soccer, birthday parties, piano lessons, family commitments and homework I feel like half of the time I am just diving my kids around from place to place. I know this isn’t news to any suburban parent. I was warned about this. The thing is how do you decide what to sign up for and what not to sign up for?
Not over scheduling my children but still making sure they end up as well rounded individuals is a constant challenge. As of second grade they both love scouts but I am not requiring them to do it. Scouts are a bonus. The kids are obviously responsible for homework but there are only two things I require – one instrument and one sport. I will tell you why.
Monday afternoon my second grade son got off of the bus waving around what appeared to be a piece of paper. “Mom! Jacob W. just gave me fifty bucks!”
It really looked like a fifty dollar bill, but that was impossible, right? Jacob W. is in first grade.
He handed it to me and there he was. Ulysses S. Grant. It was a real $50.
I’ve been known to drink a beer or two (or eight) every now and then.* I love beer and I love wine. I even love some mixed drinks, but they don’t so much love me.
This is not my point. What I was going to say is that I come by it honestly. My mother’s entire family are pretty solid drinkers. This tends to get me in trouble when I hang out with my cousins.
So one night I was drinking (heavily) with my cousins and we had to get up early the next morning. We had a pre-wedding get together. I wasn’t hungover exactly, but I certainly wasn’t at me best. When we got to the shower the hostess offered us a mimosa. Not to be the type of person to turn down such an offer I accepted.
That’s right. Today is national delurking day!
(I know because Chris told me so. I think he might actually be in charge of the internet but I’m not sure.)
A lurker is one who reads a blog but does not comment.
What this means for you is that if you are reading this I expect you to leave a comment even if it is just this once to let me know that you are out there and that I am not just talking to myself.