The sky is blue outside my window but I have trouble believing it. It’s been so gray and dark all day, all week, all YEAR. We have little bursts of sun and then back to weeks and weeks of oppressive grey like the sky is pressing down closer and closer, tighter and tighter until it chokes the very life and laughter out of every person, plant and rock in my little world.
Can I just tell you that today was not a good day for my mentals? They are not happy. I’m working up to being drug-free and proud in anticipation of a possible attempt at a third child and the strange fluctuations in my “special vitamins” we’re using to get there are leaving me in a bit of a rough way, complicated by the ratchin’-fratchin’ gloom of abysmal death and the fact that I’m not getting a ton of sleep.
Magoo has decided that sleeping through the night is for babies. Big boys prefer to get up and watch movies with their parents from hiding places in the hall, pass out on the floor or on the stairs. They also like to climb in bed with their parents at 2am, claiming to be afraid of T-Rex’s even though T-Rex’s are their best friends, and spend the rest of the night trying to make their elbow fit in their mommy’s nostril. Big boys are the super best.
This weekend our city had its summer festival, despite the cold and damp. Laylee begged us to let her ride her bike in the kiddy parade, claiming imperviousness to cold, bravery and fortitude beyond her years. After 45 minutes of waiting in the bone-chilling cold and rain for the parade to start with parents who had the nerve to put all the gloves and ski pants away because they mistakenly thought it was June, her fortitude waned, providing us with one of the best pictures ever taken by the camera of man.
Magoo, who insisted that his dad dress him in the non-waterproof jacket that a neighbor’s baby had left over at our house, was unfazed by the weather and left all who passed him humming “Fat Man in a Little Coat” by Chris Farley.
And then we went to a parade in the rain, full of dogs and tractors and large raccoon credit union mascots with matted fur who Laylee surmised must have escaped from Disneyland “because that’s where they have most of the people that look like that.”
Tune in tomorrow to find out about how I almost SLAUGHTERED an old lady with a cane in the 5K-race-through-the-mud portion of the festivities.