Weekend at Home

We managed to stay put this weekend, and we're so glad we did. Among other things, we hit the pool twice, worked out, cooked up a bunch of good food and ate dinner outside, went to the farmer's market, rode bikes, went to church and walked to get donuts afterwards, and played guitar and had a dance party in the kitchen.

Jemma is in a diaper because Jemma prefers to wear one, single, old, ugly, stained "pink light" dress, and when that dress is dirty, it is like delicate hostage negotiations (bribery, distraction, constant stream of reassuring chatter interspersed with stern threats) to get her to wear something else. Sometimes I have the energy for it, sometimes I don't. (And when I do, the neighbors have fully admitted to hearing the screaming that ensues.)

The dance party/singing session was, in hindsight, good preparation for our night on Saturday. We made last-minute plans to meet friends for dinner (the babysitter stars were aligned), which turned into going to a second bar, which turned into going to yet a third location at 11:30 p.m. That third location would be a former Pizza Hut which is now a karaoke bar. Of course it is. So, what with the Pasty Cline and the David Gray and the Bon Jovi, we didn't get home until around 1:00 a.m., resulting in a very groggy morning and a fun new friendship and a feeling that the spontaneous things we do are almost always the best.

Sometimes (see photo near top) you're having the best time at the pool, laughing, swimming with your dad, blowing your bubbles. Then, minutes later, you are FURIOUS because when you got out (for the second time that afternoon), your towel was WET and how dare it be WET and you must throw it to the ground and demand a new, fresh towel for every exit from the pool.

Sometimes I think one of the big mysteries of parenting is how you can have the best, most perfect, dance-party moments with your kids on the very same day that you have the worst, most frustrating, storm-out-of-the-house-to-escape-the-yelling-and-speed-walk-around-the-lake-when-your-husband-gets-home moments. But, clearly, we learn it at a very young age.