Wishes and Likes

Nothing much to report today. No pictures to add. No stories to tell. Maybe just musings... I wish I was a better gardener. I wish I had more willpower. I like that I can cry at sappy commercials. I wish I didn't think about the future so much and what it will be like without certain people. I just need to enjoy them while they are here. I like that I have a big vocabulary and use big words in daily conversations. Not just to use big words, but they come naturally. I love bacon. I wish that I didn't love bacon quite so much. I wish that (sometimes) I was busier at work. I like living close to my mom and dad. I'd be happy if they lived next door! I wish that I were more produtive. I love that my 10 year old wants me to give him 100 kisses at bedtime. It's a game for us. I like the way a buzz cut feels when I run my hand over the buzzed head. I like the way sunscreen smells. I like the way pluff mud smells. I wish Mike liked the way pluff mud smells. I like it when my kids tuck ME into bed.

The boys had a beatdown... So, this past weekend the boys got into their first real fist fight. Andrew ended up with a black eye and a bruised shoulder. Colin had lots of scratches. And I sat there and let them do it. Now, don't get me wrong. I didn't want them to keep beating on each other. But you know the advice you've always heard - don't get in the middle of two dogs fighting? Well, the same applies to a 10 and 11 year old. I shouted for them to stop - they didn't. When they were starting to wind down, I got in the middle and sent each to a corner. Then they started up again. And have I mentioned the cuss words? Yes, they know all of them. I can only wonder what my nice, elderly neighbors think. They had to have heard the screaming. Not yelling, S-C-R-E-A-M-I-N-G. I felt (feel?) rather like a parenting failure. Mike was not home at the time. So there was nothing he could do. Once they had gotten it out of their system - Andrew went storming off to his room and Colin sat down on the couch and cried. He was worried that he would be in lots of trouble. But I didn't really punish them. Took TV away for the weekend. But really, by the end of the day, they were back, playing with each other. Is this normal? I mean, Bruce beat the crapola out of me when we were little, but we never really played together and he never really "hurt" me. And he certainly never did it when mom or dad were around. So should I have washed their mouths out with soap? We ended up having a "family meeting" once Mike was home. Lots of "We're disappointed" and "You should know betters" but no real consequences. Of course, I felt bad ALL DAY. Cried a lot. But really, by Sunday evening, at the pool, they were playing like the best friends that I see them as (usually). What else should I have done? Or was it all right for me to just let them get it out of their system? And why am I second guessing my parenting decisions? And really, I had thoughts like "this is when I wish we only had one child" or "I have to seriously endure this for another ten years or so before they 'grow out of it?'" Sigh. Here it is two days later and I'm still obsessing, although my kids have basically forgotten about it. They were concerned over how to answer "What happened to your eye?" because neither wanted to say they had fought with each other. Anyhow, not the greatest subject for posting, but it was on my mind this morning.

This may be one of my favorite pictures - ever. It's like the modern day Rat Pack, but comprised of 10, 11 and 12 year olds! This is Andrew (with the stylin' hat); our friend, Will (I was in his parent's wedding!); our cousin, Ben; and of course, Colin. I love that they are in seersucker and shorts. They had so much fun at this wedding and I didn't have to worry about them once. Not even when they said they were snake hunting. For water moccasins. Poisonous snakes. Nope, at the time, wasn't worried a teensy bit. Was just having fun enjoying myself. Knowing that they were having fun. Not worrying about my parents - Mike was there to drive them back to the hotel if they wanted to leave earlier than the rest of us (they did). Just enjoying. We were in a beautiful setting celebrating with old friends and family. Everyone says they love this photo of me and Mike. I like it for all of the above reasons, but not that I think it's a particularly good photo of me. Why are "we" so critical of photos of ourselves? We just need to get over it! So for everyone who says this is a great photo, "thank you!!"