Jun
15
Money worries, future uncertainty, career angst, frustrating inability to separate personal values from creature comforts, hour-long commutes, fear of failure, spousal disagreements, parenting challenges, feelings of isolation, constant sugar addiction cycle, school stresses . . . meet Monday evening, 5-7 PM.
Monday wins.
Jun
14
We’ve been spending a lot of weekend time at a local park area which has a ton of secluded hiking trails that are easy for the kids to navigate. There’s one spot that’s particularly nice for picnicking, so when it became apparent the sun was going to make an appearance on Saturday (hallefuckinglujah) we packed up some snacks and a Frisbee and settled in for a long morning of lolling around in the grass and letting the kids run wild.
It was great fun for approximately fifteen minutes, when all of a sudden we heard this enormous rumbling coming from the maintenance area at the trailhead. It got louder and louder and we were all standing on our toes like meerkats trying to see what was out there when JB whipped around, caught my gaze, and silently twirled his index finger in that instantly-recognized gesture we’ve all seen in a thousand movies featuring dramatic military or police activity and if there’s an official name for it I don’t know what it is but I know it as ROUND UP THE TROOPS AND LET’S GET THE FUCK OUT OF DODGE.
Seconds later, it burst into view and sat there idling for a moment like Christine and as I frantically stuffed the last of our gear into the backpack I caught sight of Dylan’s mouth, which had dropped open into a perfect little O of horror.
A riding mower. Goddamn if it wasn’t a Parks & Rec riding mower, roaring into life and busily trundling through our previously bucolic picnic field in order to maintain the trail or use up the weekend budget or, you know, send a mower-fearing 2-year-old’s brain exploding right out his ear-holes and precede every single one of our future picnics with a worried discussion of “Dere’s no lawnmower Mommy? Dere’s no lawnmower Daddy? Dere’s no lawnmower?”
It’s always nice when you can end a festive family outing with the shocking appearance of a childhood fear come to life, you know? Maybe next time we can arrange for some vaccination needles to drop out of the sky.
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In totally unrelated news that will be of interest to almost none of you, I decided to stop running BlogHer ads and host my own instead. The BlogHer folks have been great to work with, but I’ve been wanting to do something different for a while. Instead of pimping giant conglomerates who often provide—let’s be honest—questionable products, I’d like to offer that space to cool independent businesses, moonlighters, artists, and other people who have stuff worth talking about.
If you have something to promote, email me! Let’s make ads not suck.
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My product review site:
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