I'm in love with the weather....

Oh man, perfect! This is life. Sunny, breezy, seventies, not humid at all....I took the kids swimming today....then home for nap time...(hey, once in a while that practicality rears it's ugly head)....Camille and Charlotte Claire both went to sleep...so I got to relax...of course, I SHOULD have been doing many other things, as a matter of fact, if I had known that Abigail was going to bring two girls home for dinner without telling me, believe me, I would have been working my you-know-what off....anyway....I talked to my sister for a while on the phone, sitting out on the deck in the sun with my feet up, while the kids watched, "The Shaggy D.A.".....then I went down into the yard and sat in the grass in the shade with Benjamin, talked and played with Rosie. (whoever says dogs cannot love people obviously has not met Rosie. She loves us. period.) Anyway, I had not the foggiest what to make for dinner, as usual....then I remembered the kids wanted waffles and vanilla ice cream because we had some fresh strawberries and blueberries. I thought we could use some protein, so I microwaved some chicken nuggets (I was surprised that 5 of them had 13 grams of protein (but 13 grams of fat, too))....so when Abigail walked in with two friends, well, they had waffles with us. Waffles and chicken nuggets.



Today is my last day of being 43. I cannot believe it. I am going to be the dreaded 44....and the reason it is dreaded seems so silly and ridiculous, because it is. When I was a little girl, my mother babysat for a new girl in the neighborhood. She was an only child, and her family had just moved here from Hungary. Her name was Alice. She had a heavy accent, which we found fascinating. One day, she told us how old her parents were...I don't remember how old her dad was, but her mom was "farty-far".....oh, how we laughed. Not at her. No, later we laughed. We thought that was the funniest thing in the world. And tomorrow, I will be "farty-far".....



Paul has not said anything about my birthday coming up. I don't want to remind him, but maybe I should. I can just picture him saying, "Shoot, I totally forgot!".....one year, Gramma forgot Joseph's birthday, and felt so guilty she got him a nice tent AND birthday money. The kids said for years after that, "I hope Gramma forgets MY birthday this year..." I seriously don't want him to get me anything, but if he wants to take us all out for pizza or something, that would be nice....what would be really nice would be if he told me he booked two rooms in a really nice resort for the weekend...one for Abigail and the 8 younger ones here, and the other for he and I....but, it ain't gonna happen.

What I would really like for my birthday is someone to call me and tell me there is a newborn baby that needs a home....aren't I awful? When I read of that happening to people, I always think, "NO FAIR!", which is pretty selfish of me....I have been blessed so much. My baby is eating a cup of crushed ice. They are settling down to watch yet another movie, after a nice after-dinner dip in the hot tub...but hey, it is summer, and I DID go to Blockbuster yesterday....