We made it to Friday. Er, uh, yes. Yes. It's Friday. We celebrated my son's
birthday (again) with a small party at a local park yesterday evening. With
temperatures in the low 90s, the shady park with the nice breeze was a fantastic
place for the kids AND the parents to just hang out and relax. I tweaked my back
but good about 15 minutes before the party, so I'm walking like a 90 year old. I
know better than to just lay down and suffer though. I'm going to attempt some
gentle yoga when we get back from our walk to school. I can't afford to be down
a day. My husband's work is really demanding right now. He's cranky a lot
lately. I would be, too. He is the Sales Manager for an injection molding
company, and he spends a lot of time entertaining clients and flying across
country on a moment's notice to save or cement a sale. He is good at his job,
but the long hours and butt-kissing gets old. *Poor Me Alert* Most days he can
go into his job a little late, if I have a morning appointment, or come home
early. With the huge surge of new business they are working on, he is in early
and home late more often than not. So lately, when I need help, I'm on my own.
Like today, with my gimp back. But it's Friday. And my big girl loves
kindergarten. She walks out of that classroom with a bounce in her step, and is
already running with a posse of little girls, all with crooked pigtails and
smocked front dresses. They all have old lady names too, just like my girl,
which is hilarious. You can just picture them in their dotage. My son tells me
I'm beautiful, even when he's wiping snot on my shirt. And my baby calls me
Ah-hoe with a guileless smile. Tomorrow is our 6th Anniversary. Six years, three
kids. Getting married on 9-11 was supposed to be a joking reference to the fact
that I was pregnant at the time. We went to a baseball game the day after we
married. We took our oldest to her first game the next year. We weren't able to
get tickets the following year... Pacific Bell Park was brand new, and my son
was born just days before our anniversary. Our third anniversary found me home
on a weekday, staring in horror at CNN footage of the World Trade Center in my
bedroom, while my children played in the other room. Since then, it's not really
the kind of day where you go out and pop champagne corks. We'll go out to
dinner, I think. My mom will watch the kids for us. Ironically, my husband's
divorce from his first wife was finalized on Pearl Harbor Day, two years before
we met. We just have a knack for memorable dates.