Parental Houseguests

My parents came over to our house last week and I’m always elated when they visit.  We had a brilliant time seeing the sights and enjoying each other's company.  I’ve been looking forward to their arrival for months and it made me a little sad that our days together zipped by.  But we had fun nonetheless.  I chanted in my mind that I needed to remember to take pictures of our activities so I could blog about them later.  I failed.  Consequently, I only have a few pictures of our adventures.  I was too preoccupied living in the moment and emblazoning the memories in my heart.   Or I’m a flake. 

My mom has taken up woodworking and we went to a lumber shop with really expensive wood so she could poke around.  I had planned on letting Eva liquefy her brain by playing on my phone all morning at the lumber store but they had a cat wandering among all the boards.  Eva spent the entire time we were there chasing the cat and trying to pet him.  He was a really friendly cat and he let her bother him without hissing or scratching at her.  I was very pleased.  My dad put the cat into Eva’s arms so she could hold him and she immediately dropped the poor guy onto the dog that was also there.  He hid from her for a few minutes after that but his grudge was short-lived. 

On another day we went to a car museum.  It was actually really cool and they had a children’s room that Eva loved.  It was a fun place to visit.  One of their displays was about the history of radio and music and how listening to music in cars has evolved.  They had a few albums up on the wall behind the glass and this was one of them:

I have been mercilessly tormented by my family since my youth for loving the movie Rad.   I felt vindicated that it’s epic enough to be honored in a museum.  Look who’s laughing now, suckers!  (If you haven’t had the pleasure of viewing Rad, I urge you to seek it out.  It’s awesome.  Especially the part where they use a male stunt double in a terrible wig to portray a woman.  It’s fine cinematography.)  Now that I’m remembering it’s greatness, I need to watch this movie again.

Here’s Eva playing in the kid’s room.  She cried when I told her we needed to leave.  I would’ve felt bad for her but we were meeting Michael for DELICIOUS tacos at a legit Mexican taqueria and I didn’t have time to coddle her.  My carnitas tacos and Coke in a bottle were of superior importance. 

At the end of my parents’ visit, we drove to my sister’s house in Coeur d’Alene where the fun continued.  We went to my nephew’s football game where we rang cowbells, wore Groucho Marx glasses, and screamed like hooligans at every exciting play. 

We also swam in the hotel pool, of course.  (Well, I didn’t swim.  I hate getting my hair wet outside of the shower.  Instead, I sat on the pool deck and enjoyed the pleasant stinging sensation the chlorine was producing in my eyes and nostrils.  That pleasantry lasted the rest of the night.)

Perhaps the highlight of the trip was when we attended a Roller Derby match.  Now that was fun!  We all sat there in confusion for the first few minutes until we Googled the rules.  Then it was just fun after that.  If you haven’t had the pleasure of viewing a Roller Derby match, I urge you to seek one out.  You won’t be disappointed. 

We also celebrated Eva’s birthday but I need to get the pictures from my dad for that one.  I’ll save that story for another day. 

And then it was time to drive home and enjoy Cinderella five times in a row.  It’s the only way to travel.

I’m incredibly grateful for the chance to reunite with family.  It was a great 10 days and I’m glad my parents made the journey to come play with us.  And I’m sorry, Dad, that you didn’t have the chance to purchase marijuana at one of the dispensaries.  Maybe next time.

Now…quit wasting your time on the internet and go find Rad and a Roller Derby. 

Aged

This is our dog, Aika.

 

He turned 9 this year and he’s been showing his decrepitness lately.  I’m having a difficult time coping with his aging and the idea of caring for an ailing dog.  Here he is when we first adopted him:

I was never a dog lover but Aika transformed me into a dog freak.  Michael and I spent many years with only the hope of being parents and Aika was our child.  We even threw him a birthday party once.  My sister still ridicules me about that but she came to the party and enjoyed the cake.  He has a stocking at Christmas and dresses up for Halloween.  He is our first baby. 

Admittedly, once Eva arrived, Aika was no longer top dog.  He couldn’t do this anymore:

 

Or this:

  

I don’t suffocate him with the same amount of affection anymore but I still love the old guy.  He makes me happy and I’m melancholy that our time with him is rapidly shortening.  

Aika has had to go to the vet every month for the past little while.  Not only is this expensive for us but it’s an obvious sign that he’s not our spry puppy anymore. 

Our kitchen counter is scattered with prescriptions and my phone dings reminders throughout the day to medicate our boy.  Every morning when I check his bed to let him outside, I hold my breath a moment in case he’s dead.  He can’t jump up into the car anymore and he has trouble standing first thing in the morning.  He behaves as though he’s approximately 157 in dog years.   

Aika is the best dog I’ve ever known.  He doesn’t bark, he’s docile, and he loves everyone; even our toddler who has never been gentle with him.  He is pure and wonderful.  Despite my mutterings about his annoying shedding and the piles of poo landmines in our yard, I love this dog a ridiculous amount.  A really ridiculous amount. 

I don’t know how much longer Aika will be with us, but I will continue to dress him up for Halloween.  I will also continue to hang a stocking for him even after he departs.  He likes it.

He’d better be waiting for me in Heaven when I get there.

(Yes, I’m going to Heaven, you jerk.)

Meltdown Free

Eva went to preschool yesterday.  Myke worked from home so we could drop her off together and bid farewell.  Eva was elated to be going to school and headed out to the car 10 minutes before we had to leave.  Myke was equally excited and followed behind her.  I was the only person who remained in control and made those 2 yahoos sit in the car and wait for me until it was actually time to leave.  (The fact that I was rushing to comb my hair and put makeup on might have had something to do with making them wait.  Hey, I rarely leave the house before 9 AM so lay off.  Maybe I was doddling too but I admit nothing.) 

Because Eva was thrilled to go to school, I wasn’t sad at all.  I’m grateful that she made a smooth transition and wasn’t sobbing and clinging to my leg like some of the other kids.  I struggled with the idea of sending her to school all summer, but when the moment arrived, it was really sweet.  She’s going to have a great year.

 

I reprimanded Michael in the car for taking a picture of my voluptuous backside.  It’s a terrible vantage point for someone of my stature. He said there is nothing wrong with taking pictures of my butt. I punched him in the throat for being wrong. He veered the car into a tree and we died. But that’s a story for another day.

After dropping Eva off, I had 3 whole hours to myself.  I prudently decided to spend them on grocery shopping.  What an awful idea!  I shouldn’t have been spending my Me Time taking care of my family.  I should have used those hours to go to the movies where I could purchase a giant tub of popcorn and a box of Milk Duds all for myself.  Rookie mistake.  I had visions of how wonderfully peaceful and productive it would be to shop without Eva slowing me down.  It was productive and marginally peaceful but it was incredibly lonely.  I missed my little buddy and her incessant prodding to stop every 15 feet to look at something.  I don’t think I’ll go grocery shopping anymore while Eva’s at school.  I like her company too much.

But I will go to the movies and eat a giant tub of popcorn and a box of Milk Duds. 

My butt-size depends on it.

Family Secrets

I think we’re good friends by now and you should know our secrets.  I don’t want it to turn out like on 20/20 when the friends and neighbors of a murdered husband claim they never imagined the wife would kill him.  I want you to be able to say, “Yeah, they were pretty unbalanced.  I totally knew she was capable of decapitating the goldfish while her husband was at work.  No surprises here, Diane Sawyer.”  Knowledge is power, my friend.  Knowledge is power.

At our house:

We don’t require pants when watching TV.

Except for something important like General Conference.  Then we watch in our gorilla suits. 

We sit in front of the oven like savages and wait for food.

We delight in “Where’s Waldo?” reenactments.

We love to throw rocks.  Sometimes at each other. 

We’re a bunch of turkeys.

You go ahead and tell Diane that you were not shocked by the goldfish massacre. 

The only surprise was that it didn’t happen sooner.