|The only picture I took all weekend. I got my camera out, snapped a picture of the cake, and then left it on the counter so I could take pictures when people were around- and it stayed there untouched the rest of the night.|
Friday was Independence Day and we went to two different barbecues that day. We swam and visited and ate (and I stared longingly at but refrained from the copious amounts of margaritas, sodas, fried fish, chicken slathered in barbecue sauce ((did you know barbecue sauce has a TON of sugar?)) fresh fruit and punch, garlic bread, and the most delicious homemade strawberry ice cream ever made). Toby ate more dog treats than a dog should eat in a lifetime, and I feel really guilty about letting it happen because he did NOT feel well the rest of the night or all the next day. So, when I went home early with him and passed out while Chris and the kids were at fireworks, he barfed all over the house and I slept through the whole thing.
On the 5th Slim had baseball practice in the morning, and in the evening Chris drove the kids 3 hours up into the mountains to a cultural event for the tribe. I didn't go because right now I just can't stomach the car ride. I had been dreading it because it meant he would have to drive home on a mountain road in the middle of the night, and he had been dreading it because he was worried about me sitting at home worried. It turned out fine- they had fun and made it safely there and back. I had dinner and played games with friends, stayed out late and fell asleep easily when I got home.
Yesterday we worked on chores and laundry- just trying to get the house put back together. In the afternoon the kids were invited to go swimming with friends, so Chris and I got to go to the grocery store for our week's fruit and vegetables by ourselves: exciting stuff!
To top it all off, I plastered Mister with 10 thousand temporary tattoos last night. I typically restrict him to one at a time, (mostly because after the first day they just look like the dirty sticky remnants of a torn off bandaid), but he had amassed a ridiculous collection and I just thought, whatever. It's summertime- time to be ridiculous. And it's fun. And he's 7.
|I did not predict how important symmetry would be to him- he carefully planned the placement of every tattoo.|
|What you can't quite see in this picture is that he's got one on each of his palms, on the insides of his wrists, and on the backs of his hands.|
|And of course the knees. It really doesn't help them NOT look like dirt when they're just random squiggly black shapes in the first place.|
I (we) had a lot of fun, but I'm honestly relieved it's all over. I'm a whiny baby and get really tired of not being able to partake in all of the holiday food, and I'm ready for pajamas by 7, and sleep by 9. So I'm glad we did fun stuff, I'm glad everybody had a good time, and I'm glad that it's Monday, I'm a few days closer to my due date, and there's no reason I can't go to bed on time tonight.