For the last few weeks I’ve been thinking, ‘This Sunday, I’m going to snap a picture of me looking ‘on point/ fleek’ “(whatever the kids are saying these days) and share it as a snazzy fashion post as I used to do in days of yore.
But, that hasn’t happened, except for this one week I took a picture standing next to my parents dilapidated barn and shared it on the ‘gram. New header image maybe?
In reading through my archives in preparation for my upcoming talk, I’ve found lots of old posts with mundane details of my daily life, mixed with some funny stories. The posts I wrote on our first and second days of school back in 2012 are good examples of this, and they made me long for some leftover crab legs. But, lacking day old seafood, let me share some other poignant moments from our day (because at some point in the future, I will be glad to read these details.)
For Father’s Day, I tried to celebrate all that Tony does for me by showering him with love and canned cinnamon rolls, plus a meaningful post on Facebook featuring a picture of him and a watermelon shark. Every year I really strive to do something for him on the feast of St. Joseph, but I dropped the ball and couldn’t even get my ducks in a row for the feast of St. Joseph the Worker. So now I’m bragging about canned cinnamon rolls, and making a favorite side dish of his, cheesy potatoes, to accompany the burgers he got to grill in the hot sun. Hoping this means today goes in the “for better” and not the “for worst” category.
And Edie always rises to the occasion by throwing together something large and endearing we don’t know what to do with. No one else in the house is of the ‘gift giving’ love language so heartfelt excuses all around!
Tony did sneak in a nap, and we ate homemade cupcakes courtesy of my mom. The kids entertained my dad with their knowledge of upcoming giant robot fights and SNL skits. (See, homeschoolers aren’t sheltered!) Then after my parents left, Tony got to try to fix our washing machine…without success. It’s not quite the holiday featured in a sentimental Folger’s commercial, but I suppose it will make for funny stories at some Thanksgiving/ therapy session down the road. Fingers crossed.
And somehow, we started talking about higher education and Byron said he was going to graduate from Yale and buy Addie an apartment since she’ll be living on the street. He was convinced he’d get into Yale because he’s going to get a 40%. I said, “Byron, do you mean a 4.0 GPA, because a 40 % in anything is a failing grade.” And he said, yeah, whatever it takes. I mentioned lots of kids get 4.0 GPAs and he’d have to do something else to stand out, and get a full ride, because otherwise he wasn’t attending an Ivy League school and after considering it a moment he decided to cross breed/ genetically mutate a narwhal and a horse to create a unicorn that could swim underwater. This sounds promising.
I’ll be getting back into the usual swing of things now that Fulton is home from camp, and trying to squeeze in a few extra errands (haircuts, lab work, laundromat visits, etc.) while planning for next Sunday’s guilt that it didn’t all happen. Thankfully, we have ice cream on hand. So I can plan to be bloated and frizzy haired this weekend (while wearing a stained outfit) with certainty; putting that on the to do list now so I can feel like I accomplished something.
Hoping you enjoyed today with the fathers in your life, rocked a stylish outfit free of pit stains and have a week on tap filled with guilt free carbs (if that’s actually a thing).
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