I brought him home and I didn't know how I'd ever carry him around, he was so big at over 9 pounds. He hurt my arms going up and down the stairs.
But he got bigger and bigger.
And then he turned nine and we surprised him with a Dalek cake, because you know, Daleks are THE AWESOME. He plays football and takes care of his siblings and is all around amazing to me on a daily basis.
There is part of me that wants to say I don't know where the time went but that's a lie. I know where it went. Every minute of it.
I brought him home and I didn't know how I'd ever carry him around, he was so big at over 9 pounds. He hurt my arms going up and down the stairs.
But he got bigger and bigger.
And then he turned nine and we surprised him with a Dalek cake, because you know, Daleks are THE AWESOME. He plays football and takes care of his siblings and is all around amazing to me on a daily basis.
There is part of me that wants to say I don't know where the time went but that's a lie. I know where it went. Every minute of it.
Ok, I have tons of awesome fair pics and things to share but before I do all that, I have to get this out of my brain before I forget it all. It's about our dinner at the fair yesterday. It was NOT to be missed.
At dinner time, we wandered over to the booth where we normally eat was, and notice the only table that was really free had a girl sitting at one end not eating. The husband asked her if she minded if we shared her table, and she smiled and said no so we all piled into that table. The husband left to go fetch food, leaving me alone with the baby, the twins....and this girl.
"Your children sure are beautiful." she says.
Ok well that's a nice thing to say, so I engage her. Well, I say thank you, and she tells me then that she works at this booth. She starts explaining how she has to leave school every day at noon during the fair to come work at the booth and everyone is completely jealous of her.
It's at this point that she doesn't stop talking.
EVER.
She's only 14. She loves the fair. She knows everything about the fair. She then leans over and does a wolfe whistle at a man in his 30s at the booth next to us roasting corn. She informs me she's been "messing" with him all day while he works and he's funny. From what I can tell he looks faintly horrified, honestly.
She informs me that working at the fair is much easier than her normal Saturday job. I say "Oh really? What's that?"
"I have to lift goats all day."
Me: "Oh."
Her: " Yeah and I can lift more goats than the men at my work. And I just tell them they better get to work because I'm not there to lift all their goats for them."
Me: "Yeah I can see that."
She then gives another holla over to the guy making corn. The husband then returns, and I smile and leave to go fetch corn with the oldest boy. The guy she's been harassing waits on me. He looks completely mortified.
When I get back to the table, the look of death the husband gives me tells me he's been enjoying her company too.
She told me that LAST year she got sent home from the fair because her boyfriend came to the fair and punched her in the face and so she punched HIM in the face (presumeably she is VERY strong because of all this goat lifting) and anyway she got sent home from the fair for an entire day and she didn't think this was fair AT ALL.
She goes back to the goat lifting, apparently there is also GOAT CAGE lifting. She then asks me if I know where some town in Georgia is - trying to impress on me how far she has to go. I say "No I'm not from here is that south of Atlanta?" and as though I haven't spoken she starts naming towns.
Do you know this town? NO. Do you know this town? NO. Do you know this town? NO. Do you know this county? NO. Well you go through this town and this town and this town and you come to this town with a town center and you have to go around the town square and that always confuses me I always get lost because their town square is really hard to figure out...(methinks because it's a SQUARE).
I ponder at this point HOW she is getting to this far off-unknown to me town,at the tender age of 14. She looks about 16 or 17 but extremely dorky, kinda chubby and immature.
At that point, she got up and wandered over to the roasting corn booth and DIRECLTY bothered the guy working there. To his credit he worked faster and just kept trying to keep moving, nodding and stuff not to be rude but trying to just keep working AROUND her.
It was exactly like what talking to GAVIN in real life would be.
Ok, I have tons of awesome fair pics and things to share but before I do all that, I have to get this out of my brain before I forget it all. It's about our dinner at the fair yesterday. It was NOT to be missed.
At dinner time, we wandered over to the booth where we normally eat was, and notice the only table that was really free had a girl sitting at one end not eating. The husband asked her if she minded if we shared her table, and she smiled and said no so we all piled into that table. The husband left to go fetch food, leaving me alone with the baby, the twins....and this girl.
"Your children sure are beautiful." she says.
Ok well that's a nice thing to say, so I engage her. Well, I say thank you, and she tells me then that she works at this booth. She starts explaining how she has to leave school every day at noon during the fair to come work at the booth and everyone is completely jealous of her.
It's at this point that she doesn't stop talking.
EVER.
She's only 14. She loves the fair. She knows everything about the fair. She then leans over and does a wolfe whistle at a man in his 30s at the booth next to us roasting corn. She informs me she's been "messing" with him all day while he works and he's funny. From what I can tell he looks faintly horrified, honestly.
She informs me that working at the fair is much easier than her normal Saturday job. I say "Oh really? What's that?"
"I have to lift goats all day."
Me: "Oh."
Her: " Yeah and I can lift more goats than the men at my work. And I just tell them they better get to work because I'm not there to lift all their goats for them."
Me: "Yeah I can see that."
She then gives another holla over to the guy making corn. The husband then returns, and I smile and leave to go fetch corn with the oldest boy. The guy she's been harassing waits on me. He looks completely mortified.
When I get back to the table, the look of death the husband gives me tells me he's been enjoying her company too.
She told me that LAST year she got sent home from the fair because her boyfriend came to the fair and punched her in the face and so she punched HIM in the face (presumeably she is VERY strong because of all this goat lifting) and anyway she got sent home from the fair for an entire day and she didn't think this was fair AT ALL.
She goes back to the goat lifting, apparently there is also GOAT CAGE lifting. She then asks me if I know where some town in Georgia is - trying to impress on me how far she has to go. I say "No I'm not from here is that south of Atlanta?" and as though I haven't spoken she starts naming towns.
Do you know this town? NO. Do you know this town? NO. Do you know this town? NO. Do you know this county? NO. Well you go through this town and this town and this town and you come to this town with a town center and you have to go around the town square and that always confuses me I always get lost because their town square is really hard to figure out...(methinks because it's a SQUARE).
I ponder at this point HOW she is getting to this far off-unknown to me town,at the tender age of 14. She looks about 16 or 17 but extremely dorky, kinda chubby and immature.
At that point, she got up and wandered over to the roasting corn booth and DIRECLTY bothered the guy working there. To his credit he worked faster and just kept trying to keep moving, nodding and stuff not to be rude but trying to just keep working AROUND her.
It was exactly like what talking to GAVIN in real life would be.
Following our every morning routine this morning, at 7am two short buses roll down my street. I take the twins, and Charlie goes to swing on the porch swing, and Miles and I put on his back pack and walk down the driveway to meet the first bus.
What happens next is that I go BACK up the driveway and by the time I have Charlie and his backpack, Miles bus is pulled away and Charlie's bus is there.
Except this morning, I turned around....
and the swing was swinging....
without a Charlie on it.
I froze.
I called him. Nothing.
Have I mentioned there are coyotes in our woods now? Have I mentioned it's DARK out when they get on the bus?
I called him again.
He came bounding out from behind the minivan laughing and hooting, he'd tricked me.
Following our every morning routine this morning, at 7am two short buses roll down my street. I take the twins, and Charlie goes to swing on the porch swing, and Miles and I put on his back pack and walk down the driveway to meet the first bus.
What happens next is that I go BACK up the driveway and by the time I have Charlie and his backpack, Miles bus is pulled away and Charlie's bus is there.
Except this morning, I turned around....
and the swing was swinging....
without a Charlie on it.
I froze.
I called him. Nothing.
Have I mentioned there are coyotes in our woods now? Have I mentioned it's DARK out when they get on the bus?
I called him again.
He came bounding out from behind the minivan laughing and hooting, he'd tricked me.
The traffic going northbound was completely frelled, basically not moving a bit except the left lanes of our great big northern pipe out of Atlanta. Luckily, my commute is all ABOUT the left lanes so I slid over there and puttered home at about 10 miles an hour.
I ended up behind an asphalt truck. It had this long strand of asphalt hanging down off the back of a closed pipe on the tank. It was about a foot below the pipe, dangling and swaying in the wind.
I sat and watched it through Adam Lambert, switched channels and listened to Korn. Switched Channels and listened to Ceelo Green and then flipped around until I hit some traffic news.
The strand got longer and longer, eventually it was dragging, bouncing and twirling along the interstate.
I watched it for about an hour, and as I got close to where the highway splits I could see several helicopters hovering, and then back away as one flew upward and away. Lifeline.
"Well," I thought. "That can't be good."
I flipped channels and watched the long strand of asphalt dance. I kind of wondered how long it would be before it broke off. I decided I'd watch it until it popped off. That would keep me entertained on my commute.
I got an eyelash in my eye, and looked to the side as my finger extracted it and I gently cruised forward at about 2MPH.
When I looked forward again, a split second later, the asphalt had broken and the strand was gone.
At about that same moment, the semi next to me pulled forward and I got a perfect view of why the interstate heading north was closed. There sat a semi, surrounded by police of various ilk. There was a motorcycle about 20 yards away, there was still a turn signal blinking. No one had turned it off. It had intended to go left. There were clothes scattered, some under the truck tires.
The news confirmed what I knew as I sat there stopped in a perfect place to take in the scene. Someone isn't coming home. In the blink of an eye, a life ended, lives changed and everything is different for some people I don't know.
The traffic going northbound was completely frelled, basically not moving a bit except the left lanes of our great big northern pipe out of Atlanta. Luckily, my commute is all ABOUT the left lanes so I slid over there and puttered home at about 10 miles an hour.
I ended up behind an asphalt truck. It had this long strand of asphalt hanging down off the back of a closed pipe on the tank. It was about a foot below the pipe, dangling and swaying in the wind.
I sat and watched it through Adam Lambert, switched channels and listened to Korn. Switched Channels and listened to Ceelo Green and then flipped around until I hit some traffic news.
The strand got longer and longer, eventually it was dragging, bouncing and twirling along the interstate.
I watched it for about an hour, and as I got close to where the highway splits I could see several helicopters hovering, and then back away as one flew upward and away. Lifeline.
"Well," I thought. "That can't be good."
I flipped channels and watched the long strand of asphalt dance. I kind of wondered how long it would be before it broke off. I decided I'd watch it until it popped off. That would keep me entertained on my commute.
I got an eyelash in my eye, and looked to the side as my finger extracted it and I gently cruised forward at about 2MPH.
When I looked forward again, a split second later, the asphalt had broken and the strand was gone.
At about that same moment, the semi next to me pulled forward and I got a perfect view of why the interstate heading north was closed. There sat a semi, surrounded by police of various ilk. There was a motorcycle about 20 yards away, there was still a turn signal blinking. No one had turned it off. It had intended to go left. There were clothes scattered, some under the truck tires.
The news confirmed what I knew as I sat there stopped in a perfect place to take in the scene. Someone isn't coming home. In the blink of an eye, a life ended, lives changed and everything is different for some people I don't know.
So I'm on day two of sick. I've had one of those illnesses where you spend your time either facing or sitting on the toilet. I came home from work early and went to bed for three hours today. So now I'm up and hungry and faced with what to eat.
I've chosen oatmeal.
Because my kids hate it.
From what I can tell, when they were jettisoned from planet OATMEALO their bodies developed a natural revulsion to oats and all the goodness within. Given that anything I am eating usually involves at LEAST the twins screaming and begging for bites of ALL OF IT, oatmeal seemed a good choice. It's an autism thing. I can't explain it in anyway that would be logical to you.
If I have food, they want it. All of it. NOW.
Unless its a food that they hate.
Thus, oatmeal.
I swear to you, I'm going to make a list of foods they hate and dine exclusively on whatever it is.
So I'm on day two of sick. I've had one of those illnesses where you spend your time either facing or sitting on the toilet. I came home from work early and went to bed for three hours today. So now I'm up and hungry and faced with what to eat.
I've chosen oatmeal.
Because my kids hate it.
From what I can tell, when they were jettisoned from planet OATMEALO their bodies developed a natural revulsion to oats and all the goodness within. Given that anything I am eating usually involves at LEAST the twins screaming and begging for bites of ALL OF IT, oatmeal seemed a good choice. It's an autism thing. I can't explain it in anyway that would be logical to you.
If I have food, they want it. All of it. NOW.
Unless its a food that they hate.
Thus, oatmeal.
I swear to you, I'm going to make a list of foods they hate and dine exclusively on whatever it is.
I had this friend, who bless her, wasn't that bright. She was AMAZINGLY pretty though and so life was kind to her in that way that it is to pretty people.
I've got a short collection of hilarious things she said over the years. One of my favorites, that I quote quite often to the confusion of others is "Oh you better clean up those newspapers, you'll get mice!"
Now, when it was first posed to me, I questioned her at length as to HOW I might get MICE in my CAR just because I had some newspapers on the floorboard of the back seat and her response was that "Everyone knows if you leave newspapers lying around, you get MICE."
I had this friend, who bless her, wasn't that bright. She was AMAZINGLY pretty though and so life was kind to her in that way that it is to pretty people.
I've got a short collection of hilarious things she said over the years. One of my favorites, that I quote quite often to the confusion of others is "Oh you better clean up those newspapers, you'll get mice!"
Now, when it was first posed to me, I questioned her at length as to HOW I might get MICE in my CAR just because I had some newspapers on the floorboard of the back seat and her response was that "Everyone knows if you leave newspapers lying around, you get MICE."
I brought him home and I didn't know how I'd ever carry him around, he was so big at over 9 pounds. He hurt my arms going up and down the stairs.
But he got bigger and bigger.
There is part of me that wants to say I don't know where the time went but that's a lie. I know where it went. Every minute of it.
