Other

Happy belated Cinco de Mayo!

I hope you all had a wonderful and meaningful celebration as you gathered around your beautifully decorated Cinco de Mayo tree.

What? Is that not a tradition in your family?

Yes. Mine neither.

I’m just rambling as I try to figure out how to begin this post and what all we’ve done over the last three days because I am tired to my bones. But it’s the good kind of tired like after you’ve had a ton of fun and not enough sleep.

As an indication of how tired we are and, thus, easily entertained, I’ll confess that P and I just spent six minutes of our lives watching a YouTube video of Spidey vs. The Yeti from The Electric Company. I have no explanation except to say we sometimes go off on random childhood tangents and the next thing you know we’re watching an orange sing opera from an old episode of Sesame Street.

The 70s were a simpler time, man.

Now you’d have apples crying discrimination that they weren’t chosen to sing and Yetis believing they’re being profiled.

Anyway, our weekend. That’s what this is supposed to be about. Not to in any minimize the plight of Yetis.

Friday morning, Caroline woke up with a sore throat and a headache so I let her stay home from school. I think there was a better than average chance that it was a combination of allergies and exhaustion and a May cold front that dropped temperatures into the 40s, but it felt like a good call to have a day on the couch.

However, I wasn’t on the couch with her because we had friends coming in for the weekend and I needed to clean the house and finish getting the playroom/guest room ready for company. I also made a trip to HEB where I bought every onion and potato and ear of corn they had on the shelves in preparation for our big Cinco de Mayo crawfish boil.

My friend Michelle arrived on Friday night and I’d warned her we were going to be totally lame because it had been a long, busy week. Fortunately, Michelle embraced the lameness and we picked up burgers for dinner and were all asleep by 10:00 p.m. The only way we could have been less fun had been if we’d chosen to subject her to YouTube videos from 1970s children’s television shows.

However, we had to get a good night’s sleep because Caroline had a soccer tournament all day Saturday. Which meant we had to get up at 6:30 a.m. and be at the fields ready to play by 7:30. This is not my optimal way to begin a Saturday. Or really any day.

We arrived at the soccer fields, in our fleece jackets because the weather is INSANE right now, and watched Caroline’s team lose the first game. And then a couple of hours later we watched them lose the second game. And then a few hours after that we watched them lose their third game. It was more than slightly disheartening. Especially when Caroline scored an amazing goal and it was called back because the referee said she was offsides. Which she totally WAS NOT because even the opposing coach agreed it was a terrible call.

But what are you going to do when a soccer referee decides to take out the frustration of wearing socks that are pulled up way to high and tight on a nine year old girl?

So we believed we’d reached the end of our tournament hopes and dreams even though we were told there was a slim chance we might make it to the next round. However, I eliminated that as a totally impossible scenario because how do you advance without winning even one game?

We drove home and began to get everything ready for the crawfish boil. My friends, MK and Kelly, flew into town and we picked them up at the airport just in time for all the festivities.

And then we spent the next few hours eating and laughing and peeling little crawfish as fast as we could.

There is really not much I enjoy more than a good crawfish boil. And I also have to mention that I made Pioneer Woman’s Tres Leches cake for dessert and it was so good. Like the kind of good that I haven’t been able to quit thinking about it. You should totally make one sometime soon.

We stayed up way too late talking and catching up on life. Which was why it was such a shock when P woke me up Sunday morning at 8:30 to announce that Caroline’s soccer team had made it to the semi-finals of the tournament and we had a soccer game in three hours.

What is happening?

How do you advance in a tournament when you haven’t won a game? I have no idea. It’s something about a point system. I’d try to give a better explanation but it might involve math and then CHECK, PLEASE.

So we all headed back out to the soccer fields to watch the semi-final game. And. We lost. But they played really hard and Caroline was thrilled to get to play one more game. Sadly, while you can make it to the semi-finals with all losses, it doesn’t help you make it to the championship game.

Then I ran up to Barnes and Noble for a book signing smelling like outside smell and sweaty soccer hugs. I’m sure someone will bottle that fragrance up in no time and sell it for no dollars because blech.

And the rest of the weekend and most of yesterday was spent eating Mexican food at various restaurants in various forms until I put my sweet friends back on a plane to Tennessee. Then we ate cereal for dinner because it felt like some detox was in order.

Cinco de Mayo isn’t for the weak. Only the fittest and those who can eat the most chips, guacamole and crawfish survive.

So here’s an early Mother’s Day present for you.

The Kindle version of Sparkly Green Earrings is FREE right now.

As in, FREE.

Like ZERO dollars.

See y’all tomorrow.

I realize at this point I have basically complained for two days about my sore knees and my neck and my bursitis.

Not really about the bursitis, but only because I don’t have it. Otherwise you would have totally heard about that too.

So maybe it’s time to bore you with other meaningless details of life around here this week.

We finally finished the playroom yesterday. I mean we still have to put bedding on the beds and a few other little details, but the painting/sanding/cussing like a sailor/staining portion of the job is complete. All said and done it took us about a week and didn’t even require any marriage counseling. Even though there was one dark moment when P told me something wasn’t 133 inches but 132 7/8 and my eyes may have rolled out of my head.

Anyway, I’ve spent the last two days catching up on all the other things I’ve neglected during this project. First on the list was taking Caroline to get new soccer cleats after school. Her foot always decides to have a growth spurt right before the last game of the soccer season which is terribly convenient and expensive. Especially since she’s inherited P’s narrow feet with high arches.

That’s one of the things you forget to pray for when you’re pregnant. That your child will inherit your feet that can wear virtually any shoes without any problems whatsoever instead of needing shoes made of dragonfly wings that have been hand-cobbled by elves.

We went to the Soccer Factory and found a pair of cleats. The whole process was pretty painless and I guess filled me with optimism so I suggested we stop by MJM Shoes to see if we could find her a nice pair of sandals. Not to mention I had two pairs I needed to return that she’d rejected a few days earlier because they were “too blergh”.

(No. I don’t really know what that means either. But rest assured it’s not good.)

So I returned the rejected sandals made by the devil while she looked around to see if there was anything that caught her eye. She tried on several pair that she immediately declared, “SO UNCOMFORTABLE. THIS IS THE WORST THING I’VE EVER HAD ON MY FEET” until she finally tried these and decided they were perfect.

They are from the Mr. T shoe collection. I pity the fool that looks directly at them in the sunlight.

Because as shiny and gold as they look in that picture? Multiply it by the number of times I have seen Coal Miner’s Daughter.

But I’m claiming them as a win because they aren’t cleats or Converse high tops or rubber flip-flops.

Then yesterday I’d planned to go to Smart Barre after I dropped Caroline off at school. But we overslept and by the time I got her to school I decided I just didn’t have a workout in me. So I got a taquito at Whataburger instead and then ran errands in search of exciting things like an eight foot white extension cord, an oscillating fan, and a large basket to hold Caroline’s Wii games and accessories.

It was all terribly glamorous.

And, ultimately, my errands led me to The Container Store to find these cable twister things to organize the cords in the playroom.

(Did you just die of boredom? Because I just re-read part of this and jagkljl;kdjhdfzhn)

(Sorry. I dozed off.)

I also happened to see this jewelry organizer thing and bought it in a fit of unbridled optimism. And then I walked around the rest of the store for a few more minutes before I felt utterly defeated and lost my will to live.

It’s time that I accept organization is not my gift.

I’d show you a picture of the inside of my desk drawer but it would cause you to need therapy and I can’t do that to you.

However, I did have a moment of triumph this afternoon. For months I’ve been pinning all manner of bookshelves on Pinterest where the books were organized according to color. Frankly, it’s bordered on an obsession. And I kept telling myself that I was going to do that on the bookshelves above the desk in our kitchen.

Then I’d get distracted and sit on the couch for six hours watching Season 1 of Call the Midwife and forget about the bookshelves in lieu of trying to figure out if I can wear red lipstick.

But yesterday I took the bull by the horns or the books by the spine or whatever and took them all off the shelves, sorted them by color and put them back in my own version of rainbow organization.

It was like I’d just climbed my own personal Mount Everest. And I love it.

You know who’s not going to love it?

P.

There is no semblance of order. There are no categories. There’s no distinguishing between his books and my books. Now if he wants to find any of his books easily he’s going to have to remember what color they are.

What are the chances he’s not going to appreciate my love of form over function?

I’m guessing 132 7/8 percent.

And now I want to make a joke about finding Caroline’s new gold sandals at the end of my new book rainbow.

Listen.

This is the lamest blog of all time this week. And I am so sorry.

But, like I may have mentioned yesterday, if it’s not happening in our playroom right now and doesn’t involve paint or sanding or stain or crying and profanity, then it’s pretty much non-existent in my life.

Although I did make a trip to workout at Smart Barre yesterday morning because I was hoping all the stretching and whatnot would help with all the soreness from all the home improvement. Sadly, any good that was done was immediately nullified when I spent the better half of yesterday painting tiny little bits of crown molding with a tiny little paint brush.

Now I can no longer look to the right or the left. Which shouldn’t be terribly inconvenient except for the times I want to live my life like a normal person.

So I’ll be back tomorrow once I find a chiropractor/Advil/neck brace/a case of wine/my mind.

Here’s what you need to know first.

My knees will never be the same.

Why? Have I been in a season of intense prayer?

No.

I mean, yes, I have prayed over the last few days. I’ve prayed for sanity as we continue to work on the playroom.

But the reason my knees are ruined forever is because of something called an orbital sander. P taught me how to use one on Saturday afternoon and I spent the next few hours on my knees sanding the beds he built for Caroline.

For the first hour or so I felt all I AM WOMAN HEAR ME SAND. But then, as I felt all the feeling leave my knees around the hour and a half mark, I began to wonder why we didn’t just buy some beds like normal people.

I’ll tell you why.

Pinterest.

On the plus side, I can add Professional Sander and Wood Stainer to my resume. Which I’m sure will come in terribly useful for all future career plans.

And so that’s why I didn’t post yesterday. Because I am abandoning writing in favor of various construction projects.

Not really. I was just exhausted. And while I realize my sore knees shouldn’t impede my ability to sit and type on a keyboard, somehow it all seemed to be directly related. Well, and I also needed to watch Mad Men before I went to bed.

So that’s what we did this weekend.

Actually, Friday was a school holiday. I’m trying really hard to remember what we did but I’m having a hard time focusing because P just informed me that our roof is leaking. Excuse me while I go find a bottle of wine.

(You may remember that our roof got damaged in an Easter hail storm and needs to be completely replaced. However, we are still waiting on various estimates and now it’s raining and we have a bad roof. I know this is true because we have water coming in the roof of our bathroom and we just had to put a bucket in there.)

Anyway, Friday. Caroline had a friend come over to play and then we went to dinner later that evening with Mimi and Bops. Then on Saturday morning she had a soccer game and got hit right in the face with a ball, cried on the field, but kept playing. This is her father’s DNA at work. I would have been off the field and dialing 911 before anyone knew what happened.

The rest of Saturday was like a scene from This Old House. I sanded while P built shelves and a ladder, rewired a chandelier, and cut crown molding. Then we ordered Papa John’s for dinner (Cinnapie!), showered and fell into bed wondering if we’d even be able to move in the morning.

The answer is kind of. I believe I’ve lost a lot of mobility in my neck region. And I can no longer lift my arms above my head and I have no feeling in my hands, but other than that, I’m good.

I wish I were exaggerating but Caroline had a dentist appointment this afternoon and when I went to fill out the update form I realized I could barely write because my hands are so tired and sore.

I realize this is all terribly uninteresting, but it’s all I’ve got for today because it is LITERALLY all we’ve done for three days now. But there’s a light at the end of the tunnel. And a little bit of wood stain that I’m fairly sure will never come off my knee.

My plan was to show you pictures of the progress, but I’m afraid Mamaw’s knees can’t make it to the guest room right now. So maybe tomorrow.

Or maybe something more interesting will happen between now and then. Like another leak in our roof.

*****
Also, for anyone in or near San Antonio, I’m having a special book signing just in time for Mother’s Day at the Barnes and Noble on San Pedro (across from North Star Mall) this Sunday, May 5th at 2:00 p.m. I’d love to see you there!