I know, I promised a post
June 14, 2006
I did say that this morning, didn’t I?
I have a lot of things that I could write about. For one, baseball. This is a baseball blog, isn’t it? Oh wait, no it just seems like it is. Last night my 10 year old had a game where he pitched three innings and was the catcher for three innings. I aged ten years, at least. I swear I could feel the grey hairs sprouting from my head.
Today is my third son’s birthday. He is 9 year old. I could go on and on about him, but frankly he is annoying the crap out of me today. I am not sure why my children feel it is their birth right to act like little jerks on their birthdays. After all I gave birth to them. I endured the vomit inducing, please kill me and end my misery, pain. I pushed their big heads and shoulders out of, you know where. Granted, this is partially my fault, if I had it to do over again I would have chosen to reproduce with someone who had tiny shoulders and a freakishly small head.
Honestly I think those are evolutionary trends that we should embrace for the sake of our daughters. I am the one whose body has never fully recovered and can’t run a mile without needing a potty break. And the boobs, let’s not forget about the boobs. If anyone gets to be a bit bitchy today, it should be me.
My 11 yr old had a game tonight that was rained out. We found out after we were half way to the game. Oh the sadness. Oh the (feigned) sadness on my part. So I decide to have movie night at our house and stopped and bought an obscene amount of candy for them to snack on while they watch movies.
hello? What was I thinking suggesting candy for dinner? Honestly, I am crazy.
Rob is away in Orlando, Florida on a “business” trip, where he gets to do team building exercises with other middle aged people on Superman the Ride, and whatever other rides at Universal they will be going on under the guise of “working.” Also they are doing some sort of Fear Factor competition which I think sounds stupid. I’m not the least bit bitter. I have my sour gummi bears to comfort me.
I have my newest Advice from the trenches column up at larger families dot com, where I deal with the age old question of what to do with all the paper that these children generate on a daily basis. So go read there.
And lastly Blogher. Are you going? Can I jump up and down and squeal like a, well, like a girl, when I see you? Yvonne has promised to do the Worm, and I am so holding her to it. We are going to party like it is 1989.
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