Sunday, July 01, 2007
Jumping Into Monday
It's another week ahead of us, huh? What do you all have going on?
For me this means summer school for Stink, park and rec classes for both rug rats tomorrow night, 4th of July festivities on Wednesday, laundry, laundry and more laundry. Did I mention laundry? I also aim on getting some more queries out the door. I'm so close to a few things, but don't want to jinx anything by talking about it.
Am I doing orgasmic back flips over the dog and pony show of responsibilities ahead? I think not. But for tonight, I'll savor the memories of some well spent family time.
Rex took Friday off, and though he spent a good part of the day working on the lawn (the second love of his life next to cars... and computers and... um... moi), he also spent a lot of time with the kids and me. We went to a local park where water shot out of the ground in sporadic bursts, causing much shrieking from the kids (and Rex who almost lost his blackberry in the flood of agua that drenched his six three frame.) We dried off and went out for Mexican food at a local hole in the wall and enjoyed a margarita while the kids doodled on paper place mats and Pip periodically bled all over her vintage Holly Hobby dress. (Gotta love nose bleed season. At least there was lots of salsa, so it kind of blended into her patch work corduroy.) We survived a spontaneous adventure to Chuck E. Cheese last night with Topanga T and Drive Thru B (Chuck E. Cheese's new slogan? We're birth control for single folk!)
Today we did a pot luck swim party with Rex's alumni from his In and Out Burger days. Burgers, watermelon, no drowning toddlers? A good day indeed. (Though why I spent 400.00 on swim classes to have my kids float around in blow up rafts shaped like lady bugs on botox is beyond me.)
As the 4th of July approaches, I can't help but feel grateful for my country. For Rex's job that provides such a nice life for us. For my ability to use my talents to provide such a nice life for us as well. To be able to dream about the future. To know that I have medical insurance to help me through rough times when the future doesn't look so happy.
To be truthful, it's not like I'm always this optimistic - about my life or our Morman postcard weekend snapshot: Our little family of four holding hands and singing "Twinkle Twinkle Little Fart" (Stink is quite the composer) as the kids plow Rex into the ground with kisses and head bonks. There are plenty of times when Rex travels, or he's doing computer work and can't be interrupted. Like any couple, we fall into the trap of running our lives like a corporation: "You take the kids for X hours while I shop and clean floors that the kids will pee on two minutes later, then I'll take them while you geek out over Star Trek DVDs and plant trees that resemble swamp things. Oh, and don't forget to be stupid enough to think that later, when I'm feeling super sexy from the Batman chicken noodle soup that splashed onto my only decent cocktail dress that you're going to get laid..."
Any married couple knows that when that starts, the last thing you want to do is think of the other person's needs.
But lately we are doing a lot less of defensive "I need I need I need" and doing a lot more "what's best for us as a unit."
If I doubted this method would work before, I know it to be true when, as of an hour ago, he offered to vacuum my car while I cleaned off the work bench. Earlier today he bought doughnuts "just because" and took Stink with him on an impromptu Home Depot run.
I am more than elated at this change of scenery in the Mama P household. It did not come without a lot of soul searching and speaking up on both our parts, but it's been so worth it.
In conclusion, I stand by my slogan that Chuck E. Cheese is birth control for single folk. But when your executive husband gets down on his hands and knees to play skee ball with your toddler for the tenth time in a row? That's pretty damn sexy in my book. I'm thinking that someone's going to get a nice little prize later (and it's not even going to cost him a token. What a deal.)