Daily Archives: September 9, 2007

The spoils

So Mandy doesn’t like the water, especially the waves. What a crazy dog. I left her run (leash on) down the beach and she tended to stay dry, worked really hard at it actually. She met another dog and I dropped her lead. She was fine…fine. I’m so impressed.  I don’t know what Deb did to her, but she’s a different dog. Yesterday my nephew came in the house without my knowing and Mandy didn’t say a word. I think she was focusing on the kids in the backyard and her multi-tasking isn’t quite polished.

On the beach a young couple were playing near the water. He was teasing her that he was going to throw her in. They were a nice looking couple. As I walked by, the guy looked me in the eye in kind of a weird way. Here he was with this sweet young thing and still looking around. Maybe they were a new couple, just dating or something. You know, options open. Or, maybe he was just showing off, wanting everyone to see his new catch. Probably that.

In any case it reminded me that in my previous relationships, teasing like that would have led to a big fight because eventually I would have taken it a bit too far (read: they couldn’t take a joke).  Number one quality in a partner:  the ability to joke around. Love teases, or at least mine does.

At the beach, we sat on the rocks as a duck did laps in front of us. Seemingly unaware of our presence but she knew exactly what she was doing, nonchalant but ostentatious.  Mandy was comical. She’d run into the water, just out to her neck, and bark. Then a wave would rush over her and she’d run back to me for safety. My car is full of sand but it was worth it.

On the way home I stopped at a yard sale thingy and bought the kids a student’s desk. It’s a middle school size one so it will last a while. Korey loves to play teacher and Justin loves being the student. Now he’ll have his own desk. I can’t wait till they see it. I’ll be a hit and they’ll be amused for minutes on end. How do you spell Mommy time?

Jimmie and I hung out tonight. He was all tuned up. I love him that way. I’m ready for Roger tomorrow. I hope he doesn’t cancel. Jimmie and I will be very disappointed.

This was kind of a dear diary entry…


Something about the wind

I’m filled with happy for the moments in the sunshine with the cool breezes seeping into each breath. There is life in those whistles that blow through the trees. Never before has everything seemed so clear and intrepidly purposeful.

My children and I went to the races yesterday. They were ready to come home after the time trials, but we stuck it out. The cars were too noisy at first, but the earplugs too distracting to be comfortable. They played in the dirt and kicked rocks inside my sandals till I thought I would come unglued. We separated them countless times only to have them wash ashore to hug and kiss and then punch and shove. Hotdogs, onion rings and snacks filled their tummies and by the time the main feature was underway they were pooped enough to enjoy it. Korey watched our guy closely, cheering him on. What number again Mommy? Did someone pass us?

Justin fell asleep on my lap and Korey sprawled out on the bleachers ready to snooze. It was time to go at the half-way mark. They slept in their dusty clothes and skin leaving an outline on their bedsheets which are now clean. The ring around my bathtub tells the tale of two happy little boys. They are spic and span for Daddy to enjoy for four nights before he leaves for the big race in Louden and the boys and I will be a family for a whole week.

Sleep is a priority for me now as I ramp up for single parenthood without relief. I yelled at them today to clean up and stop being savages. I always feel bad when I do that. I want them to remember their mother as someone who never raised her voice, but it’s too late for that. As long as they remember that I love them oodles and oodles without end, that will be enough.

Mandy and I are family now, heading to the beach for a stroll along the water’s edge. Life is full of possibilities, I wonder what’s in store for us.