The last week.

This was the last week. THE LAST WEEK. This was week 13, the week to which I've counted down, the week that always seemed like a too-far-away landmark, something hazy in the distance that I wouldn't ever reach. And so, so quickly, I cam upon its shore, and I'm here to tell you, this summer has made me a better person. But that's for another post. Let me tell you about week 13.

I gave you an after-the-move spiel, so I'll pick up with watching the kiddos. We had one last day together, and then that was that. We went to lunch on Wednesday and I stood lingering in the kitchen for a long time, chatting about nothing because I knew that I wouldn't be back on Sunday, and that seemed so weird and so final and walking out of the door was proving hard to do. So hard, in fact, that I decided to plant my laptop on the couch and leave without it so I could have an excuse to come back once I was half an hour down the road. (I'm kidding. About the planting part. Really I just forgot it.) I finally made it home- wait, no! I took a detour to the lake and it was sweller than swell. We went to church and went to Panera and watched The Matrix and ate popcorn. Thursday morning we scoured an antique mall and I am very happy with my purchases- I'll show you pictures soon. And after lunch I gathered my bags and put them (and a whole lot of furniture) in the car, figuring I'd be home in an hour.

Oh people. I was so wrong. See, my car's been doing something weird but it's sort of been off my radar, because, well, I have a lot of other things on my mind and on my to-do list. So, as I left, my car started acting up again, and I just forged ahead, figuring it would stop and making a mental note to tell Dad. It didn't stop. No, in fact it got worse, making all sorts of noises that sounded like BUBDGKHBFKD I'M BROKEN KDGBKFDBG and overheating. I prayed to the Lord to please, please let me get home, and when I saw that wasn't going to happen, to please give me a place to stop on the seemingly deserted country road. Around the next bend there was a church. I pulled over there.

And then I sat (and consequently, sweated.) I sat for an hour and 45 minutes as I waited for someone to come retrieve me. And I was grateful! Grateful that the Lord had been so wonderfully protective and that Dad was available and willing to come get me and that nothing had blown up, but uh...I sat in a parking lot with my car off in August for almost two hours. I mean, I wasn't thrilled, you know? Mostly, it's the timing that stinks: I'm set to be in Tuscaloosa Monday and volunteering Tuesday and in Prattville and Birmingham and Tuscaloosa Wednesday- lots of driving, no? (Clearly my very favorite thing!) But alas, it's a wait-and-see game as I hold my breath and pack my suitcases and pray that things get sorted out.

Tomorrow we're heading to Tuscaloosa with some of my furniture and I move for keeps Monday afternoon.

This has been a beautiful summer, no? 

The end is near...

I'm coming to you from the end of week twelve. That means, friends, that this is the end of the summer (luckily for you, I'm throwing in a couple extra weeks because my schedule changed. I know you're thrilled.) But back to the end of the summer. Can you believe it? I can't. That's why I keep italicizing it. My mind is blown, as I sit here, exactly twelve weeks after I packed up my dorm and brought it home, today's date seeming impossibly far away, a landmark that I'd never, ever get reach. And somehow, as the weeks passed, they began to fly, and here I am, unsure exactly where they went. On Sunday, I'll take the washer and dryer and the lamps and the cutlery out of storage and put them into my very first apartment. (I've contacted HGTV so that My First Place can come check us out. We'll be a big hit, I'm sure.) I have plans to go back next Monday for keeps. Crazy, no? Are you falling off your chair? Deep breaths!

But this week, that's what I'm supposed to be telling you about, right? I'm sure next week will be filled with the magic of move-in day. So this week. It was pretty typical, I'd say, as far as the kids go. It was so, so, so hot outside that I really couldn't insist they go sweat and dehydrate out there. So we played Play-Doh and had friends over and watched The Princess and the Frog about 73 times. They really love The Princess and the Frog. Carson and I went to see Ramona and Beezus and it was downright splendid. My love for it might have something to do with the fact that I've read all of the Ramona books at least six times, which Carson hasn't done, but she liked it, too.

The healthy brownies weren't the biggest hit, although Aunt Jane really liked them. She pointed out that if I'd called them chocolate cake squares, we'd all have liked them better, but they just didn't have a brownie texture and you could really taste the yogurt. But then again, I had to bake a double batch to fit in the pan, so that means a lot of yogurt. They weren't bad, just not what i was expecting- and I wanted brownies! So I don't think I'll be making them again (at least as brownies) but I'll definitely try more recipes.

I packed up things on Wednesday afternoon and headed home. The drive was filled with lots of good things: phone calls, amazing skies, iced coffee, and the like. (Honestly, I kept getting distracted by those beautiful clouds in my last post. Aren't they gorgeous?) And now, I'm hanging out at home, trying to get some motivation to pack and clean and oh yeah, exercise or something. I suppose it's time to turn off TLC and get going. Happy Week Thirteen- I'll be back with pictures and updates and a great big smile, with only a fleeting glimmer of bittersweetness because, well, summer is over.

11/13

It had to happen eventually, right? I mean, there had to be one time, in the 20+ drives to and from GA this summer that I have/will endure(d), when I was running my mouth or looking for a piece of gum or shaving my left leg and I missed a turnoff or something. And so, week 11 it was. I'm gonna go ahead and do the mature thing and blame Nana, who was asking me questions and throwing dates at me and NOT UNDERSTANDING WHAT I WAS SAYING EVEN THOUGH I WAS TALKING IN ALL CAPS. And then, I looked up and realized I was going through a tunnel, which seemed strange, because never, ever have I gone through any tunnels. I would remember. I like tunnels. And so, trying desperately to staunch Nana's conversation (which is hard- talking to her is like talking to me), I started trying to figure out what to do. It turned out that getting off on some loop and taking a right was, in fact, wrong. And after a really nice old man gave me directions and told me, "Have a great day, gorgeous baby doll!" (self esteem boost/creepy man alert), Nana and I made it home with only a 32 minute delay. Eh. C'est la vie. Anyway, that is how I ended week eleven. Well, at least week eleven's work week.

I began it with a three hour drive from the beach to Prattville, followed by a turkey sandwich with Mj Parker (see left, though sans turkey sandwich) and a 15-min visit home. And when I say visit, I mean I was in my room, shoving clothes into my suitcase, and the rest of my family was walking around somewhere. And then, Nana and I headed to Atlanta, where we ran into like an hour and a half of can't-see-anything, must-use-your-flashers-and-pray you're-still-on-the-road downpour. I was really okay with it, but Nana was fairly worried. I felt bad that her first (and probably only) trip with me was kind of littered with driving issues. Eh. She still loves me. And I got an iced coffee, which perked me up quite nicely. Anyway, we arrived right as dinner was being served, which is just the way I like it. (Actually, I am always really okay with eating cereal for dinner on Sunday nights. Or any nights. I love cereal.)

I digress. Sunday night we ran into some more unforeseen rain in the form of water literally pouring from the ceiling on all three levels of the house. I was coming upstairs just to grab something, when I noticed that not only were things eerily quiet kid-wise, but there was something else. Figuring someone of the smaller variety had left the water running in the bathroom, I went in to turn it off, and instead found water streaming from the air vent into the (luckily open) toilet. I yelled for Uncle D, and on further inspection, we found this was happening in other places, too, like in the workout room and the boys' bathroom. What ensued was some panic and then some really loud fans that stayed in place for the remainder of the trip. I'm talking whirring and blowing that made everyone say, "WHAT?" and "CAN'T HEAR YOU. FANS." They were supposed to be removed a few hours after I left, and I'm not going to be jumping up and down if they are still blowing when I return.

The rest of the week was mostly uneventful. We really, really loved hanging out with Nana. We went to the pool and made possibly the best homemade salad I've ever tasted (props to Auntie) and watched some Spongebob in the face of torrential downpours. We did workbooks in preparation for the upcoming going to kindergarten. Non-kid-related, I finished the 30 Day Shred and the first two Harry Potter books. I also bought some very necessary apartment accessories. The Spaghettios weren't included in that list. That was just me being a cool person and buying those for the kids. (Actually, I, erm, lost their other Spaghettios. So I was replacing.)

These last few days I've just been hanging out at home, taking in a Biscuits ball game and hitting up Wal-Mart and the YMCA. It's been swell and relaxing and can I just say that is so good to be home. Tomorrow, I'll head to the ATL for the second-to-last time and next week, the kids and I (well, so far, just me, because they don't know about it yet) have plans to make brownies, buy school supplies and see Ramona and Beezus. Sounds like a magical week, if I do say so myself...I LOVE school supplies!

And then, nine weeks were gone.

And what a week! A whirlwind for sure, but really wonderful. We all know I'm a sucker for a whirlwind, right? This week started with a few days of nothing (alright, there was the Cake Boss marathon and the vacuuming of mattresses. I can't exactly go around calling Cake Boss marathons nothing because they're the bomb diggity. Much unlike vacuuming mattresses.) And then on Wednesday the something got going. We pulled out of our drive at 6 o'clock for Orlando- 6 o'clock p.m. And we drove there, that night, through the night, arriving in the middle of the night. We staggered in and fell into these pretty uncomfortable beds but we didn't care because they were beds, and after eight hours of the car, holy smokes, beds. I mean, I imagine you've experienced it, too: The moving of the pillow, the tucking of the legs, the careful covering of the blanket, all so somebody can start belting out Dixieland Delight and your legs can fall asleep right as you might have started dozing. BEDS!

The next day was all about the pool because, well, we don't own a pool and it was 153 degrees outside, and I think our logic speaks for itself. I actually read an entire book on this day, lounging by the pool. The very definition of vacation, no? The next day (if you lost track, this is Friday), we went to Universal Studios. We've been lots of times before because we have family in the area and always wind up in Orlando on vacation. So we knew where to go and what to ride, but even so, it was a long, long day filled with absolutely awesome roller coasters and less than awesome lines and sweat, but it was worth it. For example, Taylor, Emilee, and I waited in the line for Jurassic park for almost two hours- Taylor really wanted to do it, and nobody else was willing to get wet. Basically, you ride around in a boat and go down a pretty tiny drop, but Taylor DIDN'T KNOW. And so, when the ride BROKE DOWN while we were on it, right before the drop, RIGHT UNDER THE GIGANTIC, ROARING TYRANNOSAURUS REX, the woman next to him chooses that time to lean over and say, "You know there's going to be a great big drop when the boat finally moves, right?" Thanks, lady. Nothing like a little suspense to get a kid to cut your circulation off with the clutching of the arm. We got Taylor to ride lots of things he wouldn't before by, uh, leaving out some of the details. One day he'll thank us, I'm sure.

We spent the rest of the vacay visiting said family and eating crab and hitting up a boardwalk with some seriously rickety (read: scary and unsafe) rides and a whole lot of people calling us senoritas. And Sunday morning, we woke up, hopped in the car, and drove to Prattville in eight hours. If you're planning a weekend away, let me give you a piece of advice: Eight hours is a long time in the car. Sixteen hours is a long time to be in the car with five other people in four days. Think about your move before you decide to follow through with what is most definitely your most brilliant idea in 2010. Just sayin'. And if you decide to go ahead with it, call up my brother and ask for a second opinion. He may make you feel differently. (Seriously, we had a great time. We just drove a lot. This had nothing to do with the fact that Chris got lost nearly every time we went somewhere. Not at all.)

After that, I stayed home for approximately 34 minutes, and then I headed back up the ATL. I had sort of counted on that drive being a tad worse than full-blown torture, but it honestly wasn't that bad. An iced coffee, a phone call with my best friend, some Delilah dedications, and wham! I was there. The moral of the story is, people, that you CAN have whirlwind weeks full of LOTS of family time and TONS of driving and NO sleep and come out happy and healthy, coffee in hand, to tackle a week like week 10. And what a week it's sure to be.

The eighth week.

It's July! And it has been for a whole two days. Crazy, huh? I am sort of in awe of how fast it is going, although Lori has advised me to stop wishing days away. I'm trying to soak up every day for what it has to offer, but it is getting awfully exciting to see my own apartment and starting school back again looming on the horizon. But it's still quite a few days away (like, oh, I don't know, 29 or something. I'm not counting if that's what you're thinking...) and so I'm pretty stoked for all that July holds: a family vacation, a trip to the beach, and lots of getting things done before August. This week has been sort of run-of-the-mill, but that's certainly alright with me. In addition to all of the craftiness of the stepping stones, we tie-dyed t-shirts, too! Sadly, it wasn't our most crafty endeavor, but Carson was really, really happy about them anyway, and that's all that matters.

And that's sort of it. We watched a bunch of movies and read some books and it was pretty sweet. Just kind of mellow, which was nice. Thursday morning, I woke up at 6:45 (!) and worked out (!) and then after I was certain I might have left part of me on the treadmill, I showered and ate some oatmeal and drove home. It was quite a tiring morning, and so once I got home, I may or may not have slept for a good two hours on the couch, but it was so,so lovely, because then I woke up and had a snack.

After dinner and all of that, Lori and I went upstairs to watch Remember Me. Being the Edward-lovers that we are (sue us, okay?), we were certain that is was going to be great. And it was, all until the last 5 minutes. I won't tell you the ending because that's just mean, but let's just say that my happy little world was upset. However, we got another fix when we went to see Eclipse today. We spend a lot of our bonding time watching cheesy girl movies, but we love it.

So see, it's been a pretty chill week. Not even any pictures, except for what you've already seen. I think I'll have more to report next week, because we head to Orlando on Wednesday! Hip hip hooray for roller coasters!

I'd like to thank July for being so good so far, and I hope things continue to carry on just as swimmingly.

In lieu of this-week pictures, here's a photo to celebrate exactly two months until the start of Alabama football. Roll tide, my friends.

Week seven.

What's this? Seven weeks of summer? My, my. Do you know what that means? Only five more weeks left. Only five! Week seven was the last full week of June- week eight brings July. July brings the last thirty days before we drop our popsicles and sharpen our pencils. That's a little sad. And also fairly exciting.

In a word, I'd say week seven was exhausting, and I'm not sure exactly why. It wasn't the kids necessarily- I mean sure, they did kidsy things like make train tracks all over the den and lose goggles and demand to be fed every three hours, but they were fairly golden. I think I'll attribute it to my ongoing shortage of sleep (which is absolutely my own fault) and the 30 Day Shred, which, while it is not exactly shredding me yet, is certainly tiring out my muscles. And I've also been averaging about 5 miles a day, which is also pretty muscle-tiring and MAM OH MAN MY LEGS ARE TIRED. But that's okay, because I like to shred and I like to walk and obviously I find worthwhile things to do at midnight because I keep staying up that late, right? Regardless, more sleep in July.

Last week started out in one of the best ways I could dream up: I hightailed it to the lake to celebrate Janie being alive, and even though she was in and out because of work, it was still really wonderful. Gracie stayed for longer than planned and there was tons of watermelon and it was just super. I'd like to start another week like that soon, okay, loves?

And then, I worked hung out at the pool whilst supervising youngsters and made peanut butter sandwiches Monday-Thursday. And like I said, I've been walking/running on the treadmill AND around the neighborhood, between 5 and 6 miles a day. That takes time! So my days revolve around watching kids and  then working out, but I'll tell you, it's suiting me just fine. I am tired, though.

I have been encouraged to mention the Lost Dog that rocked my world on Monday.  There I am, reading Put Me in the Zoo for the third time while simultaneously collecting Toy Story Cheez-Its from the floor (a small person's multitasking attempt went awry) when the phone rings. Now, I would like to stop here and note that while the dog had SORT OF been left in my care (alright, in my care), I did NOT know that the dog was prone to escaping from everywhere. I did not know, either, that the painters would be painting doors, and thus, leaving doors open. I did not know the dog in my care was his owner's pride and joy, escapee or not. Had I known any- or even some!- of those incredibly important facts, I might not have locked myself in the playroom. But alas, the phone rings and the across-the-street neighbor called to tell me that if I was looking for the dog, it was okay- someone found him down the street and brought him to her. "Huh? Dog?" I wondered, briefly, if someone had mistaken one of the shaggy twins...no, they were both there. "The dog you were watching?" Oh! That dog! That I was, erm, watching. And then, the incident just sort of escalated because- like I said I didn't know this- but said dog was really, really precious to owners and they weren't exactly happy that I'd given him free reign of the nieghborhood. I'm sure thoughts concerning my actual child-watching abilities were entertained, but I can guarantee you, had I know that the dog really needed babysitting, I would have sat him (much like I really do with the children). Perhaps in a corner, but sat nonetheless. And you know, I might've shut those doors. It's now become a bit of a joke in the house- we're always looking for that dog. Luckily, I don't think I'll be asked to sit for him any time soon. At any rate, I felt pretty terrible.

On a brighter note, somehow all of the forces of good worked together and Janie came into Georgia just as I was free to leave, and, on account of we're not sure when we'll get to hang again, I made a stop in Peachtree City. And despite some truly horrific examples of customer service, we had a really excellent time trying on 546 dresses (each). In Sisterhood-of-the-Traveling-Pants fashion, all three (including Jane's mom) of us tried on this strappy black sort of run-of-the-mill dress and then we all three promptly fell in love with it. We checked the price tag and all three started insisting that the other girls buy it and sweating and shaking our heads because we really wanted it, but  we also wanted to be able to eat in the next few weeks, although we were dieting, so... And then, we split it: Jane's mom took half, and Janie and I split the other half, which is how I came to own 1/4 of a dress for the low, low price of $17. And after we became all OH MY WORD, WE OWN MORE CUTE DRESSES RIGHT NOW THAN WE DID AN HOUR AGO and less OH MY GOD I WORKED FIVE HOURS TO MAKE THAT MONEY, things improved. (See, I may or may not have bought another dress in addition to the fourth mentioned here. What? A girl's gotta have a whole dress to call her own sometimes.)*

Later, we watched Everybody's Fine, which brought the grand total of Moves I've Cried In to six, which includes A Beautiful Mind that we watched just last week. A little ridiculous, I know- four movies in the first 18 years of my life, two in the last week. I blame the lack of chocolate to take the edge off of my emotions.  But those suckers would get Saddam Hussein, you know? Seriously, next time you're wondering if someone has a heart, sit them down and play one of those movies and judge his or her reaction- the person who can idly munch popcorn through those heartbreaking scenes and not even consider welling up and buying stock in Kleenex? Why, I don't want said person around small children. Or goldfish.

Anyway, week eight brings July. Holy macaroon, it's July in a few days. I keep typing that out because I'm thinking maybe that will make it sink in but no luck yet. Next week is a regular old work week for me, Monday-Wednesday, but then I have big plans to come home to see the Eclipse premiere (I would like to note that while I will watch and even enjoy the Twilight phenomenon, it is Lori who resembles the squealing preteens stalking Taylor Lautner. But it's totes family bonding this week.) So get excited about that post and have a lovely week, Internet!

*I would like to note that we did not buy either of the dresses in this photo, nor did we entertain the thought- these were merely "Ha ha ha" dresses, though I did keep that flowery number on for quite a while, which led to suspicions that I may subconsciously have felt something for it.

six.

Did you know that six is six in English and also six in French? I'm taking French next semester, and I am excited. I took it back in high school and loved it so much that I went to France. I loved that, too. Anyway, week six.

Six weeks, 42 days. That's a good chunk of time, and then again, it's nothing at all. It's going quickly and it's going slowly; these hot, carefree days are both flying and inching as I look to the days when my life will be filled with chaos yet again, when I'll always have something due and somewhere to be and no time for the gym. Or for sleep, for that matter. I'm both holding on to the days left and yearning for August. It's all a little bittersweet, everything happening so quickly and slowly at the same time.

But anyway, this sixth week was sweller than swell. Last weekend gave me a full day-albeit a busy one- with my family, and on Sunday, I packed up and made the drive back to Atlanta. After being with the munchkins all day, every day last week, I think we were all ready for a break from each other, and just like that, God gave us Vacation Bible School (literally!) This meant I had mornings totally free (though I did spend an average of an hour and a half a day in carpool lines. Luckily, I am not a super busy mom who has super busy mom things to do, so I really didn't mind.) We spent our afternoons at the pool or getting ice cream because hey, nothing cheers up a Monday afternoon like an ice cream cone covered in sprinkles. Am I right? We did lunch at Chick-Fil-A one day and the kids played in the play area-that place is crazy intense at lunch time. Those children are much braver than I for stepping foot in there; you're liable to get a black eye on the slide or get yelled at by someone's mom or lose your shoes or get kicked on the slide and get yelled at for coming down backwards by someone's mom who just put your shoes on her kid. I'll keep my shoes on and supervise on the other side of the plexi glass, thank you very much. I'm just not the young daredevil I once was.

This week I've taken to taking twilight walks, usually
heading to the lake in the neighborhood to watch the sun set. The rain's hindered that a night or two, but it's been lovely none the less. I also baked a cake, put together a photo album of my entire childhood, and shaved my legs. Productivity at it's finest, Internet. I've exercised a whole lot and eaten fairly healthily and gotten a hair cut and week six was pretty good to me.

Let me end, though, with Awkward Story of the Week. I woke up this morning early and exercised and drove three hours, and when I got to Prattville, I ran all sorts of errands. My last one was a hair cut, something I'm not fond of doing (too much opportunity for some kind of bad, bad change to happen.) So, I am sitting in the waiting area, really just wanting to get it over with so I can finally get home. I was dreaming of a nap, because I was exhausted. Anyway, I have been sitting for a few minutes when a woman- probably in her mid-20's- asks me if the chair next to me is taken. No, I say, curious why she would sit next to me when there's A WHOLE WAITING AREA, and you know, she was sort of large, and I just didn't see why sitting in the chair right next to me made sense. She asked me how I was doing and I smiled and said, "Good, how are you?" At this point, I am in no mood for small talk; I just want to trim my split ends and get the heck out of there. She looks at me and says, matter-of-factly, "It's been the worst week of my life." I'm not sure what to say. I mean, what do you say, Internet? Do you offer a hug and an encouraging word? Do you lay hands and start praying? Do you nod politely and casually move a chair down?

You know, at this point, I am thinking that perhaps she just needed to get it off her chest, and so I apologize for her bad week and then sort of zone back out. She proceeds to call her friend and detail her entire week: her boyfriend Josh broke up with her (it's because of the cute girl he met at work; she's dating someone, but they exchanged 327 texts in two days according to the phone bill), Granny has pneumonia and trust me, it has not been pretty, and she's been working all week. This conversation went on for at least 15 minutes, and I am ready to ditch my hair cut plans and LEAVE, and I can't for the life of me figure out how to get to a different chair. In the midst of detailing Granny's chest x-ray, she burst into tears that continued for the rest of the phone call. I tried to politely surf Facebook on my own phone, but it was obvious, of course, that I could hear everything. When she hung up the phone, she looked at me, wiped a tear away and said, "I told you it'd been a bad week." I was speechless. I mumbled about being sorry again, blushed because she was still crying, and then got my name called so I could get a hair cut. It was the most awkward half hour I experienced all week long, that's for sure. Here's a word of advice, reader: make those personal phone calls some place more personal than a waiting area with a bunch of perfect strangers listening in. Kleenexless perfect strangers at that.

This next week is more kid-wrangling, but tomorrow is a very special Janie Parker's 20th birthday, and I get to go be there with her while she celebrates it. And Gracie is coming too! Hip, hip hooray for a reunion. I also learned this week that Gracie's taking me to the beach July 14-18. Ah, tis so nice to have friends who like to vacation with me. So there are lots of things to look forward to, and I can't wait!

Happy Birthday, sweet girl!

I am so very blessed to know what it is to be your best friend.

a whole hand's worth of weeks. (5)

This is the end of week five (FIVE? already?!). Well, nearly. I generally write these posts on Fridays, but tomorrow is shaping up to be a monster of a day, so I can't be relied upon to get it in. But anyway, five. This means that on the fifth Thursday night back, I was sitting in my dormitory. I remember this night like it was yesterday, five weeks ago or not. That night was mine and Jane's for the longest while, and it seemed almost strikingly appropriate; we hadn't planned that, but when it shaped up to be so, I couldn't imagine it being any other way. Nearly everyone else had left, and if they hadn't they were studying or packing. I had neither to do, so I remember sitting on my couch with her while she went over her essay answers, feeling surreal and normal all at the same time; it seemed so odd that everything was packed, that nearly everyone was gone, that it was our very last night in that room ever, but we'd done this so many times, sat on that couch so many nights, that I had difficulties setting it apart. After she went to sleep, I got a coke Icee and a dark chocolate bar with my good friend Charlie and we sat and talked like we weren't about to say goodbye the next day. I went to sleep well into the wee hours and the next morning I woke up, loaded up, and left. Five whole weeks since that night!

But back to this week. This week has been, in a word, exhausting, but at the same time, it's been revealing and fun, too. I've learned how much worth is really involved with the everydayness of children, and how very tiring it is to make sure other humans (ones that talk back and often disagree with you, no less) remain fed, mostly clean, safe, healthy, and happy for long amounts of time. Carson said today, "Basically, you don't want us to die." Yeah, basically. But that's a big task! And honestly, I only have them during the day- imagine the all day, every day, no-off-time-ever of all those parents! Let's all call our mothers and say thank you and order a ten-year supply of birth control, in that order.

Other than that, though, our week has been pretty stellar. We've fallen into a happy routine, and my creature of habit heart is really thankful. I've also learned, though, that no matter how late planning the next day keeps you up (quite late, in my case!), things are still apt to change. Today, for all my planning, went off course, but the new path fit us quite well in the end. Kids are better than adults at rolling with the punches, I do believe. What? We're not going to the pool? We're watching The Fox and the Hound? Oh. Okay. Can I have a cookie? 


I'm afraid the kids have probably gotten a little sick of me, because they are not exactly used to their mother working full time, but next week will be the opposite of this one- they'll be at VBS for a good portion of each day. I think I will miss them.

Speaking of my missing, it got staunched last weekend. Since I left Tuscaloosa and the friends that morphed into my family, there's been a constant, throbbing missing. A few days I could deal with, sure. A week, perhaps. But when you start flying through months without seeing their faces, it gets difficult, as you're well aware if you partake in any of my whining blogging. But anyway, there was a reunion, a sweet, sweet night where we giggled like we were six years old and rehashed the past weeks to each other and mentioned opinions and got the lowdown on the details. There was sushi, too, which improves just about anything. Here's what it looked like:                                                            

 

It was incredibly wonderful. It wasn't rushed or hurried and I think we said everything that was on our hearts, and we said goodbye with the next future togetherness in mind, and it won't be too long. And of course, there's the superb idea we had to live together and that is shaping up to be one of the best things we've ever thought up, at least in my opinion.

This week, I learned what it's like to guide a child to a right decision and to punish for a wrong one; also, how it feels to see tears you caused run down a child's face. I learned that being apart makes being together better, but not enough to make up for being apart, and that I can do things I didn't think I could, like run and sweat and bake a cake. I learned to be content in my own company.

These were all things I've been taught before, but just as I remind the boys not to smack at every single meal or Carson to "get out of that drawer!" almost every morning, I have to be taught again and again until finally, I understand.

one, two, three, FOUR. *

(tell me that you love me more.) **

What a sweet week week four has been! Literally.

(I'm proud to say that while I baked and constructed these, I didn't eat one single one. I really, really, really wanted to, though.)

In other sweet news, I got to spend last weekend with my (immediate) family in Atlanta. We hit up the Coke Factory (hip hip hooray for Coke, who gave me a super duper scholarship!)

        And finally, we went to the Braves/ Pirates game, where the Braves WON! We even got to see a fancy shmancy fireworks show after. And there was only one rain delay. It was the epitomy of awesome. (Before that, we went to the Hard Rock Cafe, where I had- hands down- the best quesadilla I've ever tasted.)     

On Sunday afternoon, they dropped me back off and I geared up for a serious Memorial Day, full of baking and playing in the rain (alright, not me) and a phone call from my best friend. And on Tuesday, people, I discovered the root of my happiness this summer: the pool. Aunt Jane had really been talking it up and I didn't realized quite how wonderful it really is. But here's the thing: the kids play with other kids. Sure, they beg invite me in every now and then, and I don't even mind. I love the water, but I also love laying out in the sun and getting a tan wearing sunscreen, and they let me do that while having a really stellar time. We can stay there for hours. We do. And I end with happy little campers (albeit exhausted).

Thursday, I packed my bags to make the commute for the first time (I think it's a drive I'll come to know well.) Last night, I watched Toy Story for the very first time, and today, I let the treadmill kick my butt. But tomorrow is where it's at; I'm meeting Janie and Gracie for dinner and then sleeping over at the lake! How friggin awesome is that, you wonder? FRIGGIN' AWESOME! I'm sort a little excited. So, see, week four was good to me and I have high hopes for week five.

Cause we're happiest just like that: together.

*Oh, by the way, I'd like to give a shout-out to Norm who is wooing all the Michigan females with his studly painting skills and making me miss him a little more every time I talk to him. Moreover, he has total faith in me. Here's to being blogged about, Norman!

**Because the URL has been changed, some of the links throughout the blog won't be working anymore, and that includes the previous Week posts. However, you can get there by clicking the "Summer Documentary" tab at the top of this page to get the whole story or the "Summer Documentary" label at the bottom of this post, which will give you just the Week posts.

The THIRD week.

In a not-so-surprisingly way, before this week, there was week one and there was week two. 


This week was the start of something(s) new (although I fought the urge and did not sing about it).

On the Sunday of this week, I packed up my most loved t-shirts and Blanka the purple blanket and a few more important things (like a blue dress, for example), and headed north to the ATL. I drove on 7-lane interstates to get there. And then, I parked my car and I hopped out and I looked around, because, for the most part, I was there to stay. And the day after that (Monday, if you're not keeping up), I started hanging with these pretty awesome kids. And also their pretty awesome parents, who happen to be related to me.

So this week, I've done some neat things, things I'm proud of, even if they don't seem like much. For example, I:

• FINALLY bought new tennis shoes. I've been trying to get around to doing that since September. They are lime green. I think they're the best thing ever, but that could be because I've been running the grey New Balances that were all the rage in middle school. And I've had mine since then. It was the equivalent of running in bunny slippers. 
• taught a first-grader how to borrow when subtracting.
• made at least six peanut butter sandwiches.
• made a photobook of my freshman year. (Make one at blurb.com .)
• did not eat any of the soft sugar cookies that sat on the counter all week long. Even when I was begged to.
• have stuck to my healthy eating habits. Even when I went to McDonald's today with the boys. Even when they left the table and their french fries were still there. 
• lost four pounds (in all.)

So I count this third week good. The next week holds a fam vacation and taking little kids to tennis and maybe- just maybe- seeing one or two of my best friends. And maybe I'll teach the first-grader some calculus.  

• 
  

Week two.

A summer documentary, starting with Week One.

This was the last week of absolutely-nothing-to-do-ness before the stuff-to-do-ness starts on Monday. "Absolutely-nothing-to-do-ness" is super; I like it, but I like for a few hours, maybe a Sunday afternoon- NOT for a whole week. And so, by Wednesday I was all nothing-to-doed out. I'd organized the pantry and cleaned the house and folded laundry and read some books and shopped for a bathing suit and OH MY GOODNESS I HAVE TO GET OUT OF THE HOUSE. The problem is that the kids and the adults go to school and work and so they would leave me alone all day. It didn't bode well for my sanity. And so, after a little plea from my best friend, I headed to the lake a day early.

It was there that I remembered how wonderful do-nothing-ness is when you're with people you really love being with. And so we went out on the boat and played four rounds of Liverpool Rummy and worked out and laughed and watched a movie and relished being with each other because come Saturday morning I gathered my belongings and hit the road.

I think this next stretch might be the longest we've gone without seeing other since we met, back in August:

(This is back when everything was new and exciting and we couldn't believe how lucky we were that everything had turned out so spectacularly. 

We still can't.)

And this same week, Gracie came home from China, but we haven't gotten to see her yet, and it feels like it's been weeks and weeks when I know it's only been days and days.

Tomorrow, I head to the ATL to hang out with some super cool kids and take them to the pool and fingerpaint with them and get to know them, which I think is going to be super cool. 

But I will miss the people who aren't with me. Oh man, I will. Mainly these:

Also, about the healthyness: I've worked out every day for a week. Moreover, I've followed the diet I'm setting for myself which involves NO SWEETS and that in itself deserves an oh-my-goodness-NO-WAY-DID-I-DO-THAT! I haven't cheated once. 

Week one.

That's how I'm going to document this summer: week by week. And today marks one week since I packed up my life and brought it back home.

But oh! What a spiffy week it has been! This is almost entirely because I spent five days at the beach with my best friends, and people, all the stress of the last few weeks of school, the stuff that gives you knots (literally, knots) and makes you nauseous and offers sleep deprivation equal to that of bringing home triplets- it just washed away in the ocean. I slept like I hadn't slept in weeks (because I sort of hadn't), and ate tomatoes all the time, and stood in the ocean and frolicked in the waves. And when I've been home, I've been helping with the dishes and the laundry and the kid-wrangling, and that goes a long way in the eyes of your mother, or so it seems. We've been eating my favorite homemade meals and making brownies and having nice conversation. Week one? A success.

And then just like that, it was over. We'd been clinging to the idea that we didn't have to say goodbye yet because we had five days at the beach together, but then, just like that, it was over. We hugged goodbye with intention, but, try as we might, we didn't fully appreciate those last hugs because we've been with each other for the last year; the idea that we won't be for the next three months is still foreign and strange and impossibly difficult to wrap our minds around. And so, we sort of did our best and headed away in different directions and hoped that memories and text messages and phone calls would be enough to link us in the next months and bring us back; we looked at each other and tried our best to will our hearts to remain the same.

Please don't change, our eyes pleaded.

Maybe there are miles and different families and summer plans between us, but just promise me that when you see me in August, you'll love me as much as you do right now.

And might I point out that although Gracie was in CHINA, she was also with us. We thought of her, we prayed for her, we wished for her, we missed her. So, here's this:

I'm excited for summer; I'm excited for ice cream sandwiches and I'm excited about spending time with all this family that has been put on the bac burner and I'm excited for a great tan and stress-free(er) days. But man, Internet, I am so excited to live with these beautiful girls.

Here's to week two.