Last Sunday, a very serious Sarah sat me down on the couch for an intervention. “Mom, you have to stop doing these pathetic little blog posts. They’re too short. There are no details. You didn’t even talk about how three big ugly drunk men tried to attack us in a dark alley on our way home from Wicked and we fought them off with our awesome karate skills. And your pictures are stupid. When are you going to start blogging for real again?”
Um…not during the summer time. I refuse to choose blogging over playing. And we actually just turned our superhero level icy stares at the creepy drunk men until they went away.
She does have a point, though, which I have previously acknowledged. So, partially to appease her, and partially to exact revenge (this will totally teach her to stop criticizing me), I give you….
a longer blog post with all kinds of details about the past week and no pictures.
Monday, July 30th: I dropped Emma off for girls’ camp at o’dark thirty in the morning. I was a bit trepidatious about this, as it meant that I was finally going to have to figure out how to use Netflix all by myself. After a lovely run through the park and a not-so-lovely battle with my garden weeds, I headed into Provo to donate some platelets. The cute platelet girl has been doing better since she totally messed up my arm at the beginning of the summer (just so you know, shooting blood back into your arm when the needle is no longer in your vein is a BAD idea), but this time she seemed a little scattered. She forget to depressurize the blood pressure cuff after the machine got started, and I ended up with basically no blood in my arm for about five minutes. Holy pins and needles, Batman!
That night, Todd and I celebrated his birthday (just a few weeks late) at Tucanos, which is definitely a man restaurant. We got there just before the evening rush, and I think that all of the servers must have been bored, because they were literally (literally!) at our table every 30 seconds trying to force us to eat more delicious meat. I felt like I was dining with a pit crew from the Indianapolis 500.
Tuesday, July 31st: Several months ago I learned that Dr. V, the world’s most awesome pediatrician, was moving away. I briefly contemplated throwing myself at his feet while sobbing, “Please don’t leave me,” but I decided that would only result in a restraining order. Instead, I went into a missing-pediatrician-induced bout of depression and resolved never to take my children to a doctor again. Unfortunately, it was time for the littles’ yearly check-up. I had to find a new doctor. After reviewing my options, which included my arch-enemy Dr. Superior (we had an unfortunate head-butting incident a while back), I decided to go with Dr. V’s replacement. I had heard he was friendly, and yes, yes he was. “What should I call you? Jen? Jennifer? Jenny? Do you like to go on picnics?” I am not making that up. He seemed fairly competent while examining the offspring, but also very absent minded. He had to return to our examining room three different times to ask about something he had forgotten. He was super nice, but I have no idea how he made it through medical school. Once the exams were finally over, it was time for the munchkins to get their shots. Bizzie got two, which she took with nary a whimper as I was talking to Dr. B, who was back in our examining room for the fourth time. Then Jakob got the last shot he will ever need until he is in jr. high, which is good, because he whimpered and shook and cried and screamed while the nurse and I held him down. Sheesh.
After I returned the kidlets home, I headed off to the giant metropolis of Provo to pick up some tickets that I had won (more on that later). Then I thought it would be fun to surprise my little Sarah-Bear with a visit to her work. Also, I was hungry and it just so happens that she works at Subway. It was a win-win. I ordered my favorite – the Spicy Italian. It really was spicy, because the cute toppings girl LOADED it with jalapenos and mustard. It was just a tiny bit messy to eat. I may or may not have ended up with mustard all over my white capris. Once I was finished
frantically trying to get the mustard stain out of my pants eating, Sarah and I headed over to the Beauty and Belief exhibit, which? Was fascinating. Really, if you live anywhere in Utah Valley, go see it. We were in a hurry, and were making good time speed-reading our way through the exhibit until we found…puzzles. I love puzzles. And competitions. So does Sarah. We immediately started a puzzle-building race. Sarah cheated won, because she had the easiest puzzle. No really, she did. I mean it. Since we SO CLOSE to the Creamery, we stopped for some ice cream. Strawberry Sundae Crunch. It’s like happiness in a sugar cone.
That evening, a friend and I attended the Springville World Folkfest. It was mucho cool. Before the dancing began, we browsed the vendors’ booths. I made a rookie mommy mistake and bought whistles for Jakester and Bizzie at the Croatian booth. I couldn’t help myself. The Croatian dancers were just too cute. There were some international food vendors there, too. Remember, I had already eaten a foot-long sub and a giant ice cream cone, so I ordered light. I just had one tiny little Portuguese kabob. And a giant funnel cake. Because nothing says “culture” like fried cake batter covered in whipped cream and strawberries. The dances were wonderful. D and I awarded prizes in the following categories:
Most Beautiful: Russia Coolest dance: Native American hoop dance Friendliest: Croatia Hottest Men: Columbia (Wowza!)
Wednesday, August 1st: AUGUST FIRST?!?! How did that happen and where has my summer gone?!?! Oy. It was registration day at our elementary school, which was depressing and expensive. ‘Nuf said. I rewarded myself with a relaxing evening at Seven Peaks. Well, the munchkins were there, too, and Bizzie managed to get lost twice, but still, any day spent at a water park is a good day.
Thursday, August 2nd: Daniel left for a camping/hiking trip (top of Timpanogas via Timpanooke) (no, I am not making those names up) with the scouts. For those of you who have been paying attention, that left me with exactly zero teenagers in the house. Words cannot even describe how strange that was.
Then it was time for a Girls’ Night Out! Remember those tickets I talked about earlier? They were for Seven Brides for Seven Brothers at Sundance. I felt classy just thinking about seeing a play at Sundance. Because it’s Sundance. When we arrived at the ever so classy Sundance, we were directed up a super-secret Sundance back road to a parking lot in the middle of nowhere. From there, we took a shuttle bus back down the super-secret Sundance road to the main parking lot. Holy deja-vu, Batman! Next, we hiked up a small hill to a line for yet another shuttle – this time a tractor-pulled wagon. We were running a bit late, and seats were first come, first served, so we chose to forgo the long tractor line and carry on up the mountain on foot. After all, how far could it be? Three hundred miles of straight up, heart attack inducing climbing later (okay, that might be a slight exaggeration), we arrived at the theater. Our super classy seats were actually super uncomfortable wooden benches. Luckily, we brought blankets to sit on. The scenery was spectacular, the play was fun, and my friends were fabulous as always. Before the play began, it was announced that we could return to our cars via the multiple shuttle system, or we could take a 15 to 20 minute somewhat strenuous (their words, not mine) hike back to the parking lot. We debated. It would be dark – would we be able to see the trail? The answer was yes. Because as soon as the brothers married the brides, the entire audience got up and began racing up the mountain. And down the mountain. And back up it again. And past a decoy parking lot. It was like a midnight zombie death march. Totally classy.
(I know I promised no pictures, but if you ever get to go on a midnight zombie death march after enjoying a lovely evening in the mountains watching a fun musical, these are the fabulous friends you will want to have with you.)
Friday, August 3rd: Um…is it bad that I can’t remember what happened on Friday? It probably involved lots of cleaning and grocery shopping. (I tend to block those things out.) Emma returned home from camp and immediately fell asleep, and much later that evening, a strange, bright red boy who looked remarkably similar to Daniel made his way painfully through our front door. Someone thought he was too cool for sunscreen. Someone was wrong.
Saturday, August 4th: I began the day with a lovely ten mile run. I mean it – it was lovely. I live in a beautiful area. Plus, I saw a really cool dead mouse. Later that night, Em and I went to see Fiddler on the Roof with Sarah and some of her friends. (That’s right – three plays and two cultural events in just over a week. I feel so intellectual now.) We used our Pass of All Passes to get tickets. So did everyone else in Utah Valley. The place was PACKED. On the one hand, we were there early enough to snag a spot right at the top of the hill with a perfect view of the stage. On the other hand, sitting on a blanket on a lumpy hill for almost four hours was very hard on my tired old bones. On the other hand, it was Fiddler – one of my most favorite musicals of all time! I loved it. TRADITION!!!
That brings us to today. We had a delightful morning at church, followed by Sarah coming over to
commandeer the washing machine join us for Daniel’s birthday dinner, give him some super-cool presents (plasma ball!), critique my outfit, and cut my hair. Daniel chose strawberry cheesecake for his birthday cake (that’s my boy!), and watched in amusement as Sarah and I tried to light the candles while standing directly under one of our air-conditioning vents. We refused to let a little thing like air disturbance get the better of us, and approximately 20 matches and 15 minutes later, those candles were LIT! And five minutes later, the cheesecake was GONE. Cheesecake is just not safe around the James family. Meanwhile, Joshua caught about 50 bajillion stag beetles and created a delightful terrarium for them, which is now sitting on my kitchen counter while the beetles battle to the death.
There you have it – our week in detail. Are you happy now, Sarah?