I love this time of year, here in on the Jersey coast, when my kids and I feel very lucky to have quick access to some of the prettiest beaches, like our favorite at the Gateway National Recreation Area in Sandy Hook, NJ.
The parking lot fills up pretty quick in the summer. Friday, however, was the perfect day to celebrate all the good things that living in a shore town has to offer.
Like, exploring the jetty.
Or, playing chicken with the breakwater.
Getting lost, for hours, hunting for sea glass and mermaid toe nails.
Having the beach, all to ourselves, is a luxury and a perfect time for private contemplation.
Aaaand, much silliness.
Yes, Friday was a good day. In fact, seeing how this weekend is going, I'm still there…lalalalalalalalala!
My youngest daughter is a habitual list maker. This weekend, I found this one taped to the kitchen wall.
Funny, these lists are almost NEVER for her.
I’m beginning to think that the kid has figured me out.
I mean, seriously, after 17 years of raising kids (and killer dust bunnies) not to mention, having yet another anniversary of my 29th birthday creeping around the corner (conspiring with the dust bunnies, not doubt) I sure could use the help.
Besides, she almost always ends my day with a snuggle and, well, how awesome is that?
Then, I read Dad’s to do list.
She thought it best that he switch into his pj’s, before eating dinner (practical, right?) but, on second thought, crossed off the snuggling part.
Why?
Because, the kid also knows that it takes Garth (not his real name) less than 60 seconds to, you know, fall asleep.
That, or the Doofus-Dawg has beat him to the punch and there’s just no more room, dangit.
Conclusion: That girl, right there, is going to make a great organizational expert, one day, right?
Or a few thousand hours on some therapist’s couch.
My husband, Garth (not his real name) and I were thrilled to learn that our son joined the middle school wrestling team for a couple of reasons:
He’s got 3 sisters
It gets him out of the house and away from me and his 3 sisters (okay, mostly me!)
He’s been a big WWE fan since the 4th grade (I think!)
No tryouts (i.e. everyone makes the team!)
Refer to first two bullets, above
Watching some other kid try and kick the living Axe out of my son, not so much.
“Isn’t that your son?“
[cringe]
“I’m not sure.”
Because, I was too busy covering my eyes and, well, cheese and rice, but I thought soccer was bad.
Until, the other team gets a point.
“Yep, that’s him.”
The boy tries really hard and I tend to wonder if maybe I should be a little more aggressive in cheering him on, like soccer?
“OUCH, you see how that kid’s head bounced off the mat!”
Wrestling, however, is much different.
“Throw him down!”
I’m not saying that wrestling parents are any better, or worse, than other sports families.
“Throw him down…HARD!”
It’s just not the same, you know?
“OUCH, that must of hurt!”
So, I unlaced my fingers, pulled my hands away from my face, waited the few seconds for my eyes to adjust and realized…yep…it was indeed my son’s head they were all waiting for to, you know, explode.
“Get outta there!”
I had my youngest on my lap and felt her startle a bit at, you know, my finally finding my voice (me, too!)
“Like a wiggle worm, bud!”
[eyes go wide]
And, my friend, sitting next to me, punched me in my arm…HARD…and, you know, it hurt.
“Are you trying to get your son beat up?”
Aaaaand, only when my oldest, sitting on the other side of me, started laughing, did I finally realize that, you know, maybe soccer isn’t so bad, after all.
“….like a bad-assed, rabid, wiggle worm, bud!”
Or, maybe, next time, I should just stay home and send my husband, instead?
So, I did.
“So, how’d it go?”
Aaaaand, only when my son’s frown, turned upside down (whoops, sorry!) I mean, gave the biggest mofo grin, did I realize that, you know, I was totally being faked out.
“I WON!”
[eyes go wide]
Really? After all these months of my, giving “That’s okay,” and “Maybe next time,” late night, pep talks, driving home from yet another defeat?!?
“DAMNIT!”
[cringe]
“I mean, I’m sorry I wasn’t there to see it!”
This is the last week of wrestling season and I can’t say that I’m not a little thrilled to, you know, see it end.
[cell phone rings]
Yesterday was their last “home” meet and my friend called to tell me that it ended early (DAMMIT!) and if I wanted her to bring my son home.
“Did we win?”
[pause]
“Uh, no.”
[one beat, two beats]
“Yes, please!”
What? It’s not like I forgot to pick my son up, on purpose, or anything, right…oh, and I guess soccer and wrestling are more alike…than I thought…huh?
I know, I know, enough with the snowmaggedon posts, already. Still. This winter has made for some really beautiful pictures — here in Jersey, anyway — like these ice swans captured by my 15 yo, in our backyard, the other day. She’s majoring in photo journalism and, well, the girl has a great eye, no?
Oh, and the icicles? They are EPIC this year. I’m so glad I took this shot outside our den/guestroom/laundryroom/playroom…before they ALL melted.
Or, before my oldest (a.k.a. Holly the Icicle Slayer) got her hands on them and, truth be told, having caught a glimpse of her darkside, you’d never know that, IRL, she’s really an Italian literature and arts major, right?
I was a little frightened for the wreath’s safety.
So, I thought it was probably a good idea to, you know, step back and put down my brand new camera, frigalicious as it is (yes, it’s a word!) not to mention, put away the rest of the Christmas decorations…I know…shuddup!
But, not before grabbing this shot, as she claimed her trophy and, well, thank goodness her little brother wasn’t home to, you know, turn it into a weapon and pretend it was an ice saber, or something.
Love is waking your laptop to find silly little cabin-fever-induced webcam photos of your teens…all 350 of them (cabin-fever-induced webcam photos, NOT teens, I mean!)
[shiver]
Aaaaand, there’s more snow on the way?!?
FLOB! Seems Mother Nature is in desperate need of a serious attitude adjustment, too…or, a new laptop…whatevs.
The kids tag-teamed being sick over holiday break and, at last count, it was my youngest daughter’s turn…shhhh, but don’t tell her, okay?
Oh, not to worry, weexperienced bright and shiny non-crud-filled moments, together, too.
Like, during our annual New Year’s Eve movie marathon, we watched Fiddler on the Roof and one of our (okay, my) ALL time favorite musicals, ever, The Sound of Music.
That’s a combined total of 355 minutes (or, 5.916666667 hours) of unadulterated, pure as alpine mountain air, nerdy nirvana and, well, yes, we are THAT family of geeky Broadway buffs blurting out lines from old show tunes at the dining room table.
Wanna come for dinner? No problem. Dress casual. Bring a face mask.
Aaaaand, for your musical pleasure, here’s a little something, just for you, with slightly adjusted verbage, to compliment the suckage:
Yes, we’re barely alive with the help of Mucinex With muck we have flung for like a thousand years The crud fills their lungs with the sound of mucus My heart feels like it’s gonna drown with every cough it hears
It makes me want to beat the creeping crud out of them just from total lack of sleep I just want them to breath (dammit!) makes parent teacher conferences seem like a breeze
To cough so hard it makes them trip and fall god I hate that their feeling this way To cough through the night and sleepwalk through the rest of the day
I go to the pills when my heart feels all achy I know I will hear what I’ve heard before Their lungs will be blessed with the sound of Mucinex And I’ll sleep once more
Dinner’s at 6-ish, you’re welcome!!!
[This is an unpaid, unsponsored and undoubtedly the dorkiest post I’ve written in, well, what day is it? Aaaaaanyway, just be glad I didn’t post the video I made of myself, you know, singing it, stupid sleep deprivation.]
“There’s something about growing up in New Jersey that prepares you for whatever you might encounter around the world. We’re not afraid to go places.”
Having lived in Jersey, all my life, I feel it safe to say, “What she said!!!”
Contrary to what many other people may think (about people from Jersey) specifically, about moms like me…ahem…we really do know how to use our words and, although we tend to speak with our hands, some of us more than others…ahem…Jersey Girls know how to use their inside voices, too.
[sound of crickets, chirping]
Unless, you’ve had someone home, sick, since Christmas Eve and then get dumped on by 3 feet of snow (a.k.a. Snowmaggedon) causing you to convince a typically understanding 15 year-old (note: she was the one sick on Christmas) that…YES!!!…celebrating unbirthdays is waaaay cool (IS SO!) oh, and that shopping for last minute New Year’s Eve snackage is awesome AND fun (see previous parenthesis) then, some unfortunate a$$hat decides to take your parking space.
[inhales]
You know, the one you’ve been patiently waiting on for the last eleventy hours.
“ARE YOU FRICKIN’ KIDDING ME!”
[puts car in park, rolls up sleeves, swallows gum]
“What are *bleep*ing blind, can’t you see me *bleep*ing waiting ovuh-heh?”
[inhales]
“Yah, well, a very Happy *Bleep*ing New Year, to you, too, you morrrrrrr-RON!”
Aaaand, this is about the time I remembered that, you know, my 15 year-old was still in the car and, judging by the look on her face, I just earned myself another reason why I won’t be accepting Mother of the Year, again, or anytime soon, for that matter.
[rolls window down]
“Yeah, what SHE said!”
Then again, looking on the bright side, my kids are getting older and, well, worst case, they won’t be afraid to call out bad behavior when the see it.
[rolls window up]
“Um…what the heck is an A$$hat?”
Aaaand they seem to be able to show much more restraint than, you know, their mother, already.
“Someone who says or does something, stupid, without thinking.”
On the other hand, the lesson would have been MUCH MORE effective if, you know, I had thought to roll the window down…first.
Just the BESTEST, AWESOMEST, I CAN’T BELIEVE IT’S NOT BUTTER, not to mention, ABSOLUTELY FRIGALICIOUS camera…EVUH!!!…looky what WE can do:
Is that thing even loaded?
Yep, Mama’s packing and ready to zoom!
Christmas has arrived early at This Full House of sticky floors and crunchy socks…
…bearing 10.3 megapixels and 26x zoom!!!
Thank you, Garth (not his real name) for suggesting that we wait, continue couch diving for loose change and then gift each other with the most BESTEST, AWESOMEST, I CAN’T BELIEVE IT’S NOT BUTTER not to mention, ABSOLUTELY FRIGALICIOUS camera…EVUH!!!
[takes deep breath]
Although, you’ll have to pry it from my stupid manfingers with a 33 1/2 inch crowbar, first.
[hides arms, ever so gently, behind back and puckers up BIG]
