In A Bubble

I may have mentioned we are glued to the TV.  The Games of the XXX Olympiad (I love saying that) have sucked us in. 
We all sit on the sofa and scream and cheer for the runners and the swimmers and the gymnasts, even though we saw the headline on MSN 4 hours earlier that told us who won. 
We are easy to please.
Our dog got in on the Olympic action a few days ago, too.  She ran 6 laps through the dining room, kitchen, and living room.  She even hurdled the magazine rack.  I think she was hoping someone would get up and play with her, but then she was pooped out from her blast of energy. 

I have noticed, however, that life on the outside is rolling on.  While we eat Chex Mix and dream of swimming 200 meters without lifeguard assistance.

Things that have happened since the Olympics started:

1.  The price of gas tripled.  Again.  OK, I noticed this when it happened because I am "one of those people" who will drive to the other side of town to spend .19 less.  Yes, I know I spent $3.23 getting there, but it's a mind game with me.

2.  The start of school is less than 3 days away.  Boo and hiss.

3.  Our grass started growing again after 873 days of 100+ degree weather.  Now that grass needs to be cut.  Boo and hiss.

4.  It is still entirely too hot outside.  I prefer to not go out there.  Where is Fall?  I've resorted to looking at pumpkin crafts and soup recipes on Pinterest just to keep hope alive.

5.  The boy grew another 5 inches.  Actually, I noticed this one, too.  He passed me in height about a month ago.
His back-to-school physical confirmed it.  Even the doctor looked at his chart and said,
"Has he really grown that much in one year?"
If the people that measure him for a living are surprised, then what is this world coming to?

So on this hot Monday morning, we are watching more Olympics, and I am making a grocery list.
The living creatures in this house keep eating, and we keep running out of food.

Dan/Daddy left the empty dog food bag on the kitchen counter this morning.  I'm not sure if it was a hint.
He couldn't muster the strength to write "dog food" on the grocery list so he put the empty bag on the island. 
He's apparently weak from lack of nourishment, bless him.
He also doesn't know the dog will eat Chex Mix, too.

Gold Medal In Nothing

Around here, we are all about the Olympics.  The TV is on 24/7 and the Games are holding our attention.
I have been amazed at every single event I've watched.
Maybe it's my complete lack of athletic ability combined with my zero amount of motivation, but I am A M A Z E D.
Most of these competitors are just kids, too.
Amazing, y'all.  Amazing.

I've decided my only gold medal would be in procrastination.  Or overeating.  Or not running marathons.

Anywho... with only one week left in this blur of a summer, here are some pics of our fast and furious visit to see our families.

First we headed to sunny Florida to see Dan/Daddy's family.  We went from the beach to the pool to the restaurants, and then we did it all over again.
PS... At some point in the last few months, my 13 year-old passed me in height.  What is happening here?

From Florida we drove up to South Carolina to spend a few days with my family.

The schedule at my parents' included fishing, napping, shopping, some delayed 4th of July fireworks, and a rowdy soccer game.

Since we've been home, we've:

1.  had a mini house guest (more on that later),

2.  survived Vacation Bible School, and

3.  started to get ready for 7th grade.

Phew.

I'm off to watch some swimming.

Go USA.

California Cousins

When we lived in the High Desert of California, one of the first friends I made was a gal whose Southern accent caught my ear from across the playground.
We immediately bonded over a shared love of sweet tea, polite strangers, and "Steel Magnolias."
When you live where the Army sends you, you look for ways to connect with people.  Sarah and I definitely connected.  Our kids connected, and our husbands even became friends.

One weekend when Dan/Daddy's parents were visiting,  Sarah mentioned her hometown in Florida.
Once we all started playing the "Do You Know So-And-So Game," things took a crazy turn.

You see, it turns out Dan/Daddy and my friend, Sarah,  were actually related.
Distantly... but it was enough for Sarah and me.
Sarah's grandfather and Dan/Daddy's great-grandfather were brothers.
"It's a small world after all, it's a small world after all, it's a small world after all..."
(You're welcome.)
I may have the relationship mixed up.  I may have it totally wrong.  In truth, Sarah and I don't really care how she and Dan/Daddy are kin.  I think we both totally forget that it's him she's really related to... and not me.

In 2008, we left California for North Carolina, and Sarah and her family moved to Australia.  Then they moved to Maryland, and we headed to Tennessee.
Ahhh.... Army life.
A few weeks ago, Sarah called me to tell me they were moving to Georgia, and asked if they could stop and see us along the way.
We had ourselves a reunion.  We had 4 years to catch up on, and we made the most of our time.
We laughed and talked and laughed and laughed.  And then laughed a little more.  Our kids had the chance to get to know each other all over again.  They also endured the grown-ups keeping them up way too late.

The boy with his "cousins"

Dan/Daddy and Nate...

"Cousin Sarah" and me...

When I am being honest, I have to admit how much I hated that hot hot desert of California.  I was convinced that we'd been sent to hell on earth.  Once I got my head out of the sand, I found some amazing people. Those years gave me great friendships and wonderful memories.  I even found a long-lost relative I never knew I had.

The 4th Of July We All Melted

There is no good reason to complain about the heat.  But who needs a good reason?  I just need the thermometer to rise above 80 degrees... Let the griping commence.
The vast majority of our nation is broiling, and I am hugely grateful I have my AC.
I am thankful to have my power on.
I am also thankful there's no wildfire knocking on my door.

Can I complain about it being 108 and still be grateful?

We are planning a little get-together with some friends for the holiday today.
We've had no rain since 1883, and it's 3 million degrees.
Our town has a ban on fireworks... so no sparklers or bottle rockets.
There's a restriction on water... so no slip-n-slide or sprinkler for the kids.
There's also a ban on burning that includes charcoal grills... so we'll be cooking our hot dogs in the oven.

It will definitely be a 4th to remember.
I am celebrating the freedom to grumble about this ridiculously hot weather.
I hope and pray you are all safe and well and in some shade.
Happy Independence Day!

Fancy

One of Dan/Daddy's duties as a Chaplain is performing weddings.  He had one recently in Nashville, so the boy and I went along.

We are not known for turning down yummy food, dancing, and a chance to hit Music City.

As much as they fuss and complain, I do enjoy seeing my guys all dressed up.  "Fancy," as the boy likes to call it. 
This was the boy's first time "officially" wearing a tie...
Unless a Harry Potter Gryffindor tie at Halloween counts as wearing a tie.
It was also his first time to dance with his mom... 
Unless me beating him at Just Dance on the Wii counts as dancing with your mom.

We are definitely "casual" folks, but a little bit of "fancy" never hurts.

Be Ready For Anything

The boy and I went to the pool with some pals this week.
He was swimming; I was chatting.
When I looked up, he was dragging himself out onto the side.  Pulling and hauling his whole body out of the water with only his arms and upper body strength.
So I asked him what he was doing.

"I am practicing pulling myself onto shore in case a Great White bites off my legs.
I want to make sure I can get out of the water with no legs."

The boy has this theory that every time we go on vacation, something happens to him.  He is partly correct... he had a string of incidents and trips to the ER for a few summers in a row.  I think he thinks he's cursed.

He is definitely a "planner."  He likes to know what is going to happen and he likes to be prepared.  It makes him feel like he has some control.  I can't fault him for that.... I know exactly how he feels.  And I think I know where he gets it from.

So now he's training for an attack by a Great White.

I told him if  a Great White eats my legs off, I will just throw the rest of myself to the shark.
I also told him he was smart to train, but a little bit paranoid.  It takes one to know one.
I told him I was impressed with his upper body strength.  I wouldn't be able to haul myself out of the water like that... legs or no legs.
And then I told him we may skip Shark Week this year.

Does The Cone Come In My Size?

School has been out for almost 3 weeks, and we have turned into complete bums.
I am ashamed the poor old blog has been so neglected.
We've been catching up with Dan/Daddy - who was gone for work.
We have been spending lots of time with some old friends who came into town for a few weeks.
We have made S'mores and homemade ice cream.
We have slept past 5:55 am every single morning.
We have seen The Avengers twice.  I am not ashamed to say Thor and Iron Man are easy on the eyes.

But I would be a bad blogger if I failed to tell you all the story of the cone.

It all started innocently enough... it always does.  Rosie the Dog went to the vet to be spayed. 
I brought her home with:

1. an antibiotic for a skin rash,

2. a pain medication she would later have a reaction to,

3. a very large vet bill,

4. and a cone.

Somebody remind me again why I have a dog?

She should have "bounced back" to her normal self within a day or two, but she didn't.  We ended up taking her back to the vet... who determined she was not tolerating the pain medicine.  The vet stopped the pain medicine, and Rosie perked right up.
For the rash, I had to shove 2 huge pills down her throat twice a day.
The vet also recommended Benadryl. 

After 2 weeks of taking care of the cone-headed dog, I considered asking the vet if I could finish off the pain meds.  And wash it all down with Benadryl.

The cone was to keep her from scratching her rash or picking at her stitches.  It turned into a weapon.  I have scars and scabs on my shins that may never heal.

On the day she had her stitches removed, the vet tech asked if we wanted to keep the cone.  It was shredded in 2 places, and the hooks that attach it to the collar were gone.

I politely told the vet tech she could throw it away.

Since the cone came off, we've been back at the vet for another rash and a problem with her incision scar.
Somebody remind me again why I have a dog?


One of my friends sent me a great picture... I've seen it on Pinterest, but I wish I could take credit for it myself. 

I am praying we can all remain cone-free for the rest of the summer.