Summer

Today it smells like work outside. We rode our bikes this evening, light shifting to golden, wind smelling of cut lawn, newly turned earth, cut lumber. The girl and I rode longer than we'd planned staying out till the streetlights came on.

I know how this happens now.

Sigh.

I wondered the other day how this happens. I know how now. You don't pay attention when you stick your feet under your desk where your shoes are. Then you get the kids out the door and in the car talking the whole time. Then you sit in the middle of a funeral Rosary, look down during the prayers and realize that this happened.



Then you spend the next 15 minutes trying not to lose it at your own stupidity. (Which to my credit, these are both ballet flats.) Silently laughing behind your hair with tears streaming down your face.

The boy sums it up exactly when saying what others would say about my Pippi Longstocking style choice, "Oh, well, it's Jen."

So one day, this will be funny to me because it will be you

We are going through toys. Toys they don't play with. I should have done this on spring break when they were gone and they wouldn't have noticed the missing things.

One child's room is complete and clean, then on to the others. There is an entire bin full of legos. FULL. One of those big huge tubs full. And do you think it's just legos? No. It contains other flotsam and debris from their other toys. So it must be sorted. Lego tub is emptied on the floor for sorting.

LEGO Angels!!!!

Seriously. One day I told them, one day, you will all have children and they will do these things to you. And I will laugh.

Stuff.

Doing stuff.

Working stuff. New job, vury cool work stuff, vury cool work peeps, vury cool work office, vury stupid drivers on the new route to work.

Laughing stuff. High heels! High heels? You know because they're small? What? A sign of anorexia? Huh? Oh you mean you can tell your friend might be anorexic because she is wearing high heels? I meant super super skinny small, not short small.

Grieving stuff Emily. Daughter of a friend, sister of child's friend, remembered from the high school.

Breathing stuff. Almost have a Saturday where I don't have to do anything.

Living stuff because the Man, He's got a plan for me, you and all the others you touch.

Ugh

Really? Really? Did you have to flick your wads of snot all over my living room walls? Boys. rrrr. Or I should be more specific, one boy. rrrrr. I am not amused.

Again?

I'm playing with templates, so bear with me while I find/make something I like.

Zombies on vacation

My children are afraid of zombies. This is not my fault. They have been playing a game called Roblox which has a zombie mission in it. I don't know how zombies that look like they are made out of Legos can be scary but obviously, they are.

The children are on spring break this week and spending their vaction with my mom. As she is the Grandma Berry, they have been spoiled rotten. Their adventures last well into the evening and they get home past nightfall. This wouldn't be an issue at my house as we pull the car straight into the garage and go into the house. My mother's house does not have an attached garage. Her garage is a huge shop building out on the back of her lot. To get from the garage to the house involves a walk of about 50 yards through the trees in her yard.

This wasn't a huge deal when we were little as the trees and bushes weren't nearly as large. I can remember sometimes though that you wanted to sprint that walk to the house just because it was dark and imaginations run wild.

Last night, they walked to the house with her for the first time.

"Why are you all hanging on my pockets?"

"Zombies."

"There are zombies out here."

"There are no zombies out here. I've lived out here 25 years and have never seen a zombie. Get inside."

End of discussion last night. Tonight is a different matter.

Logan runs ahead to get to the door first tonight. Decker and Arina are practically climbing in Mom's pockets. Mom gets out her flashlight.

"Why didn't you get that out last night."

"I didn't really need it but you two must."

They are still freaking out about the zombies lurking in the dark bushes and trees. Wide eyed they round the edge of the garage. There are several cedar trees on this side that usually have many birds nesting at night. The kids must have startled them because right when the reached the edge the bushes start shaking violently. The birds start flapping and the branches are thrashing like undead creatures are going to burst from the center.

The children freeze, eyes rolling fully aware that zombies are going to lurch out and rip their skulls open. My mother is trying not to laugh at their evident terror and get them inside.

They round the corner to the house where Logan says, "You have a flashlight?"

"Yes."

"Well thanks," he says with sarcasm as he's been standing here in the dark alone being a tasty bit of zombie bait.

This tells me that I need to teach them the zombie rules so they won't get eaten. Staring with Rule #1: Cardio.