Hello there! I hope you all survived your 4th of July. My sense of irony and belief in natural selection makes the 4th of July one of my favorite holidays. Any time you combine drunk people and explosives, hilarity and/or herd thinning is bound to occur!
We didn’t light up any fireworks. Heck, we barely drank (by barely I mean I only had two beers, a margarita and four vodka and Red Bull Zeros. But that was for the WHOLE DAY). Instead, we did what any couple would want to do on a day where the sun was blazing down and the heat index was over 100. That’s right. Take our toddler to the Pirate’s game.
In case you live in a cave or don’t like baseball (in which case you’ve let the terrorists win) the Pirates are what I like to call En Fuego. That means on fire in Spanish. I think. Anyway, they are doing really good.
Jones LOVES baseball. Loves it. He isn’t even two yet, but that kid will set through an entire game. The first game we took him to went into extra innings, and he was still good. We are cautiously optimistic that he is going to grow up to be a baseball player.
You may notice his face looks pink in this picture. I can assure you it’s from heat and not from sun because a.) our seats were in the shade and b.) I am a goddamn freak about sunscreen. I drive people cray-cray with my obsession that all children be slathered in sunscreen at all times. I chase Jones around every five minutes to add another layer. His third word was Coppertone. Trust me. This child. He will never burn.
I consider the application of sunscreen being a Good Mother. This? This is probably being a Bad Mother.
The kid loved it. He ate the entire bag. He then went on what I can only describe as a two hour sugar bender. He just ran around chattering, smiling, singing, peeing his pants. And then BAM. He crashed. Bed time was 7:05 p.m. It appeared that fireworks were not in our future.
Except yes they were!! Turns out that we could see not one, but two sets of fireworks from our guestroom window!!
It was fun for a hot minute, then we got bored, ran out of drinks and toddled downstairs to refresh our beverages and watch some DVR’ed episodes of Million Dollar Listing. Happy Birthday, America, indeed.
MOVING ON! How, you may ask, is my Insanity going? And I would say, OMG, it’s going great! And I would be lying my cupcake eating face off.
Truth is, it’s touch and go. We do like 3 or 4 days in a row, and we hit it hard and we’re really, really good. Then something happens, like the weekend, and THUD. All that hard work goes out the window. Monday comes and we climb back up on the wagon, but the problem with weekends is that they keep coming back, like some goddamn stray cat you fed.
It’s been stop and start, but I’m committed to making it work. They say the definition of insanity is doing to same thing over and over again and expecting different results, so in that regard, it’s totally working!
AND FINALLY! An abbreviated version of Guess What’s In My Box!
Anyone who gets a CSA will tell you there is a lot of repetition. Every week it’s the same thing. Lettuce. Cucumbers. Kale. Gets very boring. But then they throw you a curve ball. You are looking at your box and all of the sudden, you’re like, is that… could it be?? YES! It’s PEACHES!
That’s it, kids. I leave you with a picture of my peaches.
Yours in hitting the couch with my wine glass right…NOW,