Hi there, friends. I missed y'all. That blog break was just what the doctor ordered. (I mean, the doctor didn't order it, but at the rate I was going, he might've had to get involved when I put my head through a wall). It's okay. I'm peachy now.
My boys are now back in school, which boggles my mind. This seemed like a very short summer. Except when it didn't. There were certain moments of "family togetherness" that nearly became "family insanity", especially in the 107 (that's one zero seven) degree heat we were experiencing for a while. It's been too hot to do anything except sit around and look at each other. With three boys in the house, that inevitably means that somehow, somewhere, somebody's getting drop-kicked.
As you can see, our home is a fountain of peace on earth, good will toward men.
But occasional outbreaks of violence aside, we muddled through those dog days by spending much of our time at the pool. Because when it is 107 degrees outside, nothing will refresh you by lathering up with warm sunscreen and jumping into warm water. When we weren't at the pool, we holed up inside with our newest family obsession, the card game Blink
I also used my time away to get caught up on photo albums. I hadn't printed a single picture in over a year. I was so overwhelmed by it I noticed I had, for the most part, stopped taking pictures. It's what I very scientifically call my Photographic Deficiency Cycle. This is what it looks like, EVERY time:
1) I get caught up on my albums.
2) I take lots of pictures.
3) I don't develop them.
4) I get overwhelmed.
5) I stop taking pictures.
6) I have a dozen panic attacks.
7) I develop too many at once and spend a fortune at the photo place.
8) I get caught back up on my albums.
Someday my children will visit me in the nursing home after looking back in my albums and say, "Mom, why aren't there any pictures of January through June 2008?" And I'll say, "I'm sorry, I was just on Level Five of the Photographic Deficiency Cycle, dearies," and they'll look at me like the crazy old woman I am, and then they'll wipe the applesauce off my chin hairs.
Let's see, what else happened?...Ah, yes! A very industrious geneaologist on my husband's side of the family e-mailed us a remarkably detailed family tree. According to it, I'm related to Senator John McCain. Or, at least, I am by marriage. And if you tilt your head sideways and squint. Evidently (if I understand the chart correctly, which I may not, because the family tree reminded me of geometry and THAT IS MATH) the Senator's great-great-great-great grandmother and my husband's great-great-great-great-great grandmother were sisters.
So, you know, he's practically my dad. I'm wondering if I should leverage this very intimate connection for a position in his administration. How about--oh, I don't know--ambassador to Somewhere Along The Mediterranean? That would be nice. Or maybe, should I really want to serve my country, I could be our UN ambassador? Because I am, after all, a mom--I have ever confidence I could get those quibbling diplomats snapped into line. Nuclear proliferation negotiations? Pshaw. I'd have them sitting down side-by-side eating graham crackers. In alphabetical order.
Oh, one last thing. I am very excited to tell you that one of my posts from my Africa trip has been included in a real live, honest-to-goodness book (with pages! that you turn!) called The Social Cause Diet
So, what's new with you, my bloggy friends? Leave me a comment and tell me something interesting that happened to you in the last three weeks.
