So where have I been? Have I been getting my house in sparkling condition to get it put on the market? No. Have I been working out hours each day? No, but I have worked out about 45-60 minutes, three times a week. Have I been spending a whole bunch of time with my kids, loving them up and teaching them and engaging in wonderous creative educational projects? Well, sorta. I AM spending time with the kids.
See, the kids love to play Guitar Hero. Only, they aren't very good at it. Trout can get about halfway through Slow Ride before she fails out. I, on the other hand, am a former musician, and while I never played guitar, I can read music, and that makes it so that I can do pretty well despite my tiny fingers. I completed the easy level a couple of weeks ago, and I've been working my way through the medium level. I only have Raining Blood and the guitar battle at the end to do. That said, I don't think I'll be going any further; I looked at the hard level and just have to say HA to that.
Anyway, they make me play for them. They pick the songs, I play, they sing and dance. We bond.
And few things are cuter than Nemo doing a little booty shake while Sunny sings along with Hit Me With Your Best Shot. Little Man is destined to be some sort of skater rocker dude when he gets older, if his propensity for putting on grungy shorts, a long sleeved t-shirt, a blue flame winter knit hat and his Tony Hawk hoodie over top, and a single glove and jamming air-guitar style with the Guitar Hero controller is any indication. Trout's a bit square, but she loves to bang her head anyway, and metal is her favorite kind of music right now, High School Musical notwithstanding. And she worked and worked and worked and worked so hard to play Slow Ride all the way through, so hard, and she finally made it on Friday. That determination will serve her well.
In spite of all of that, we have actually done something constructive around here. End of the school year activities have kept us all busy. Sunny finished up her gymnastics class, Trout will finish her art class this week. We haven't decided exactly what to do about summer camps; I think most kids tend to be far too overscheduled. We are thinking one camp per kid, preferably all at the same time, and then leaving the rest of the summer open, because we will need to move this summer. I don't want to make the kids change schools during the year.
Little Man went on a field trip to go strawberry picking, and somehow managed to pick an entire quart of rotten strawberries, I guess because he doesn't like them. I went through them that night after he went to bed, and managed to find one strawberry that looked like it might be edible, so I washed the crap out of it, cut off three bad spots, and ate it. One single strawberry. Then I put the rest down the the garbage disposal and did my momly duty, namely telling my son that I "ate all the strawberries that were good and they were wonderful." That same afternoon we got the worst storm we've seen in the DC area in years, complete with tornadoes and the most impressive lightening I've seen outside of the deep south. I ended up having to run out the door to go pick up the bigs at the bus stop with the littles tucked under my arms in the pouring rain - we got soaked to the bone just running from the front door to the van right in front. Then we had to sit at the bus stop in the van for over half an hour wondering what was up because the school decided to hold the kids until the storm, which was travelling at over 50 mph, blew through. More than 100K people lost power in our county, including Uncle Orca/Agincourtdb. Our lights only flickered for a minute, though.
Last week I got a letter telling me my grandfather's estate is now closed, and it included a check. This threw me for a bit of a loop. I knew it was coming, but I was surprised at my reaction. I don't want a check, I want my grandfather.
Thanks to that check, though, and the economic stimulus check and my tax refund, we've paid off all of our credit card debt. We now have just the van payment and our house debt. Marvelously freeing.
Friday night I qualified for the gold medal in the Parent Olympics: while I was on the phone with BigDaddyFish, who was working late and was giving me a status update, Trout and Nemo were fooling around on our wood-frame, solid oak couch, and somehow Trout did something such that Nemo flipped up and over the back of the couch, banging his head on the couch, the corner of our toybox hutch, and the wall. I screamed "gotta go" and slammed the phone down while simultaneously leaping, hurdle style, over our kitchen doorway gate, grabbed the baby, clutched him to me and started checking for a concussion in a nanosecond, just in time for him to puke all down the front of me and him, in the living room with the new carpet. But never fear: I CAUGHT ALL THE PUKE with an octopalian combination of my shirt, Nemo's shirt, and my hands, all without dropping him. AWESOME. And then Nemo and I took an emergency shower, but I swear I still smell like puke.
So how many calories do you think I burn playing Guitar Hero for hours on end? Hit Me With Your Best Shot, come on, hit me with your best....