Sometimes My Blog Suffers
As you can see, this is not Ten on Tuesday. It’s not even close. And as you saw yesterday, there was no post. Same with Friday… no post. Which basically means that I am a blogging queen. I thought I’d aim to be the Paris Hilton of blogging. I’d do nothing and somehow I’d still be popular. It was an ambitious plan, I’m aware.
It failed. I got texts and emails asking if I was dead or had some sort of disease that rendered my typing fingers worthless. Neither are true. I was on vacation. If I was on top of my game, I would have scheduled some posts or at least warned you of my absence. But I’m pregnant which means I’m not on top of my game. Plus, I had a migraine on Thursday night so that took away the 5 minutes I’d allotted for blogging.
Early Friday morning I left for a family reunion in Oklahoma. Oklahoma doesn’t have the internet unless you’re sitting in PW’s lodge. I wasn’t. I was there for my dad’s dad’s side of the family. (Not a typo, I meant to say “dad’s” twice.) All of my grandpa’s brothers live in Kansas and we live in Texas, so we met in the middle at some small town in Oklahoma. There was a lake and a small “beach” (no sand equals no beach, in my opinion… but they didn’t ask me). There was one family that ran the lodge, the bait and tackle, the BBQ joint, deli, and pizza shop. All but the lodge were located in the gas station. It was… um… hilarious.
I belong to one of those families that get along. The type that you wish you could be part of. We like to see each other and spend time together. This particular family has committed to a reunion every two years. Sixty something of us, all stemming from my grandpa and his three brothers. If you don’t think that’s a big deal, you’re crazy.
Because we don’t get together but every two years, a lot changes each time. For instance, last reunion I wasn’t pregnant and Avery wasn’t around yet. The little kids from this year were just babies or toddlers last time. So while I was expecting to go hang out with a bunch of toddlers, I was quickly reminded that these kids are actually kids… they are not babies.
One in particular was quite shocking. A little boy named Leo. He’s kind of a genius. When asked how old he was he responded, “Three and a half. But I can read books.” He is not a liar. I had the pleasure of visiting with this incredibly brilliant child for quite some time on Saturday. He joined our section of the beach chairs and coolers after he saw that my mom had Sun Chips. They are his favorite, especially the ones in the green bag. When he noticed that her pasta salad had cherry tomatoes and black olives, he took a seat and made himself comfortable. He taught me to count to 29 in Spanish and assured me that it was easy. He told us countless fun facts and I can honestly say that I was thoroughly entertained. After chowing down on some pasta, fruit and chips he announced that his tummy was full of his plate but he thought that his tongue and molars could want a brownie.
I did my best to take him seriously and not laugh at everything he said. It was hard.
Kids are different these days. They eat supreme pizza and pick screwdrivers off the prize table when they win Bingo. With almost 20 kids running around showing these bizarre behaviors, my jaw was practically dragging on the ground the entire weekend. Avery even looked up from her book long enough to show my sister a bit of attitude. I think she even said, “Wassup gurl?”
I don’t know what was going on with the kids this weekend. Stephen and I couldn’t keep up. Maybe it was some strange world where the adults and kids swapped places. After all, when Stephen won Bingo his prize was a hot pink loofah. Mine was a jumbo pen. And on the way home we stopped at Dairy Queen for some kid’s meals. It made our day to get a free Dilly Bar with our lunch! I don’t know about you but I would choose some chocolate covered soft serve ice cream over black olives anyday. That’s what my tongue and molars want.
But now I’m back in Texas and I suppose that means I should go back to being an adult. I’ll cook and pay bills like an adult. I’ll plan for my baby and care for my dog. And if all goes according to plan, I’ll even blog like an adult. Fancy that!
(Adults ask for help when they need it… If you’d leave a ToT question in your comment, I’d be eternally grateful. And you’ll have a fun set of questions next week.)
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