High Five for Friday (i.e. Sweet Jesus It's Almost Over)

First of all, the fact that I even made it to Friday deserves a Hallelujah. All three Allbritton boys kicked my ass all week, starting with five offenses of my wasband on Sunday and the shouting, teary interaction on Monday, simply because I am irrational and he is alive. I'm also currently battling the Mouth of the South, whose favorite word is "just." As in, "I'm just saying...." when he's telling you how wrong you are or "I was just..." when he's defending his complete and total lack of following directions. Jake's Tourette's went into hyperdrive this week - eyes, nose, mouth simultaneously. The rash on his face that we thought was impetigo did not respond to the medicine, so he's off to the dermatologist for his perpetual red Kool-Aid mouth. He also dropped some serious academic balls this week and won an afternoon in detention. And I, single mother of two sons, with aid from their father and grandfather, am trying to impress upon them the importance of good hygiene. It's. the. freaking. weekend.

 

Sunday was the fourth birthday of one Audie Murphy Daniel Allbritton. We have a yearly tradition of getting him a hamburger for dinner for his birthday. I actually hold it and feed it to him because I am so ridiculous so that he does not put the whole thing in his mouth from the bowl. One year we sat him at the table, but he could not get all up on the burger while trying not to fall out of the chair. Landen makes loud noises at him and Jake jumps up and down while I sit on the floor and hold his slobbery, soggy burger.

 

 

I do not have a picture of the atrocity that became my yard, but the backyard was almost as tall as the stump and the weeds on the side were the same height as the dog. Usually the wasband does the yard when he's there with the boys on Monday. I pitch this as "it's your responsibility even if you don't live here and I won't be able to sell it if it doesn't look manicured." I forgot to ask him to do it for a couple weeks, then my plans to do it last weekend were thwarted by I-don't-remember-what-but-I'm-sure-it-was-legit. So the lawn man the neighbors use came and did it for me, and charged me $20 extra because it was so long. Today, it's purdy.

 

 

Remember last week I told you I was going to have a garage sale? I scrapped it. Trying to get all the stuff together was too overwhelming. I'm just going to sell what I can on Craigslist and give the rest to Goodwill. Because of this, I am very much looking forward to my Saturday, though it requires me to have Landen at a ballgame at 9:15 AM. The boys are home this weekend, which is uncommon, and I think I will try to have an Experience with them. I want to take them to see the movie about Jackie Robinson, but one of them wants to go to the Louisiana Arts and Science Museum.

 

 

I have been working on the room board for my future, yet-to-be-identified bedroom. This is going to be the simplest, most neutral room I have done. I want SOFT. I want TURQUOISE. I want MINE. Not having to take into account the preferences and comforts of others. I started planning this room first. I've been sleeping all these months in the king bed we bought, half of which is empty or stacked with clothes, and I cannot wait to get out of it. I pinned this room on Pinterest over a year ago. How's that for foreshadowing?

 

 

I have been reading a lot. I love words, and other people's thoughts and experiences. Moreover, I love what other people say about or how they describe their experiences. And what their words teach me about my own. I just finished Daring Greatly by Brene Brown, about vulnerability and participation in life, and started on Raising Cain, a book about the emotional life of boys. I am squirming to get moving on Carry On, Warrior by Momastery.com author Glennon Melton. Glennon's words have SAVED me and SUMMED up my experiences since August, and her followers have been waiting for her book for almost as long. However, I have discovered the witty and quotable Dorothy Parker. I don't typically do more than one book at a time, but The Portable Dorothy Parker is a volume, not a read.

 

She had her lesson; she could forget how she had learned it.
Dorothy Parker

 

As usual, go check out Lauren at From My Grey Desk, the trailblazer on these Friday posts, and all the clever ladies who link up with her. From the time I wake up on Friday, I think about taking a bath and getting in bed and not having to wake up the next day. Baseball wrecks this for six weeks in the Spring, but I have mandatory nap time (for me and the dogs), while the boys hang out in their room and watch a movie. The truly amazing thing about little people is that, even if you have jumped their asses as many times as you smiled at their faces in a five day period, they still love to stay home with you on the weekends most of all.