We’re back from vacation but, in addition to a stuffed Roo, Mickey Mouse ears, and a plethora of memories, the N-Man came back with a 104 fever. I’m going on day two of no sleep, up all night with a puking preschooler, so please forgive me for making you wait for a recap. Perhaps this will tide you over.
We scratched from our horse show. It poured rain. The Rapids failed to rise to even a level of basic mediocrity. The fireworks show was a bust and didn’t go off due to technical difficulties. And it took an hour and a half just to get out of the stadium parking lot and to the main road. Not quite the holiday we had planned but since in 48 hours I’ll be eating hamburgers with the whole famn damily at Disney World, I won’t complain. In the mean time, while I have time to pause in the pre vacation chaos, here’s a few shots from our fourth of July.
The N-Man schools Gramma on the rules.
Studying the beautiful game intently, as any proper hooligan would.
The highlight of the night: the mascot all star match. Great hilarity always ensues.
Franz the Fox dribbles it in. He shoots. He scores to give the home team the go ahead goal.
Or mascot goalie, Jorge el Mapache. Saying Jorge el Mapache makes me giggle.
Miles of the Denver Broncos made his annual appearance.
Always up for a photo op with a fellow redhead.
Yours truly and the N-Man hoping everyone had a great holiday!
Love me some fourth of July! Love the lazy, hot day. The bbqs, the children with sparklers, staying up late to watch the fireworks, surrounded by my friends and family. In my specific world, love the Colorado Rapids and their traditional undefeated home streak before a standing room only crowd ready to riot like the real hooligans from across the pond… of course highlighted by the best soccer exhibition in the history of the beautiful game, the traditional mascot all star game at half time. And finally the patriotic music, songs that reduce even the biggest nay sayer to goosebumps. I’ve been working with N-Man, teaching him about the history of this day, as best a tiny tot can comprehend, and convincing him quite easily, that marching is fun. We have been holding practice parades through the kitchen for a week now, banging our pots and pans and clapping wooden spoons. I think we’re ready.
If this song doesn’t at least make you tap your toe and bring a smile to your face, you should be deported.
HAPPY FOURTH OF JULY, EVERYONE!!!
Where is your son? The entire conversation started innocently enough.
I was scrubbing the hoofed one into a frothy lather and the head barn groom was leaning on his pitchfork nearby, taking a breather from his feeding, turnout and cleaning duties watching us closely.
He’s at his dad’s house today. I told him.
His dad’s house?
Yeah. He goes to his dad’s house from Friday morning to Saturday evening.
You don’t live with his dad?
No. We’re divorced.
Really? He seemed genuinely shocked. Do you have a boyfirend?
Not anymore. I just ended something this week.
He raised his eyebrow at me rather pointedly. I’m sorry. Something in his voice told me, Not really.
Eh, I’m not. Turns out I seriously dodged a bullet.
Smiling at me. Well you don’t have anything to worry about. You’re a beautiful woman. You’ll find another one. Wink.
I felt myself blushing as the conversation slowly turned to racy but innocent flirting.
Anyone who knows me knows I have a horrid, easily exploitable weakness for foreign men. Anyone who REALLY knows me knows that if that foreign man is from any Spanish or Portuguese speaking country, well… Game over for my common sense. No exception here. Barn Boy and I continued our flirty chat as he help me carry my horse show gear to my car, then I bid him farewell with a wink.
So, I’ve been rethinking my rethinking. I exited my really crappy marriage and made a vow that 1) I was going to take a significant amount of time off to regroup, and that 2) when I did come back on the scene I was going to make sure I did things exactly right… whatever that means. After all, I was now a single mom and that means following a strict, unwriten mandate of decorum. Kind of like when I graduated from law school and traded in my trusty, rusty jeep for a European sedan with leather seats and dark, tinted windows because now I was an attorney, a prosecutor no less, and had to portray a certain image? In a nostalgic moment, I tried driving that sedan down a dirt, forest service road once and just traded it back in for something more me. I’ve never been one for labels and strict codes of conduct, so what’s happening here?
I have come to the conclusion that before I jump back in to something serious again, I need to lighten up and “make a few bad decisions.” Go out and just have some fun. Blow it out. No no no. I’m not going to have a tryst in the hay loft with Barn Boy. I have better boundaries than that. But the flip conversation, pearly white teeth, and steaming hot Latin vibrato did more than plenty to jump start my brain back to uninhibited, pre marriage and divorce me mode. Screw the rules for a while. I need some fun. And so long as it’s limited to Friday evening – Saturday afternoon, what’s the harm?
Look out boys. I’m back.
There’s something sadly telling about the fact that I am presently camped out in the rancid waiting room of a Just Brakes service station in downtown Denver, listening to the roar of the traffic bounce off the pain in my grossly under caffeinated head yet feeling eternally grateful for a momentary pause in my otherwise frenetic week. Hmmm…. what’s wrong with this picture?
Ah, the week leading up to a vacation. Gotta love it. As usual I have over extended myself beyond belief. The N-Man is struggling to recall who his mother is and I am sprinting from one task to the next just hoping and praying I make it to next Wednesday’s flight with even a fraction of a modicum of sanity. This week’s to do list: A full day’s court docket, squeeze in an oil change on the way to an emergency meeting, pick up the N-man feed him, bathe him, clothe him, chase him non stop, sleep, a three day circus of a hearing involving a dead child, 21 hours of testimony and arguing, sleep a few hours between rounds, prepare and review when I can, a horse show, holiday weekend crammed full of running here and there, four new private client meetings, two more days of jam packed dockets. Isn’t that enough? Mix in some absolutely, needless, couldn’t be timed worse, don’t really have time to give a crap right now man drama and I’m spent. And, as of right now, I’m only 1/3 of the way through.
Somewhere back on Monday evening, while in the midst of being harassed by a pack of rabid, emotionally charged third graders, cleverly disguised as adults, I momentarily lost track of the utter delight of our impending Disney World tour, proclaiming I no longer gave a shit. By the next morning, three hours of sleep under my belt, I was at least able to give a rat’s ass. Now, however, here in my oil infested, florescently lit, make-do haven, whiling the hour or so it will take to fix my car’s brakes away, lap top, moble modem, and Starbucks in hand, I finally have time to be still and let my brain meander back to it’s happy place. A magical land of flying elephants, giant, tuxedoed mice and posses of dwarfs cruising carefree through magic palaces. I can’t get there fast enough.
My first real vacation with the N-Man. This morning he woke up, looked at me through sleepy, bewildered eyes… likely pondering, who is this woman and what is she doing here? She looks vaguely familiar… and I explained to him what light beckoned at the end of this week’s tunnel of hell. He listened intently to my tale of woe and, as we finally got to the part were we get on the plane and fly away into the wild blue yonder, he lept to his tiny little feet and shrieked with unbridled joy, MICKEY MOUSE! and begin to jump on the bed with all his tiny might. Forget all this suffering and strife. It’s simply a means to an end.
So, meeska, mooska, Mickey Mouse! Come on Wednesday. Get here now and take me away.
“The Honest Scrap award is given by other bloggers who consider a blog’s content or design to be brilliant. The awardees must then post ten honest things about
themselves and pass the award on to other bloggers who fit the bill – in other words, whose blog is brilliant.”
Thank you Mindy Mom, my favorite local blogger for the shout out. Can’t wait for our next girl’s night out. Ten random things about me. Hmmm… what have I not talked about yet. Let’s see…
1. I bite my fingernails.I hate it but I do. The big problem is my nails are paper thin and won’t grow in the first place. When they do, they end up tearing very quickly. And then there’s the issue of the hoofed one. I honestly don’t know how anyone who works with horses has pretty hands. It’s just not natural. If I need nice nails for an event I just get acrylics.
2. I have broken my nose 8 times.It started when I was seven and, all tomboy, fell off a skateboard and landed on my face on the cement. Beyond that I ran into a wall, had a huge book fall off a shelf onto my face as I was looking up, a sewing machine fell over onto my nose while I was looking down, one of the band geeks in high school accidentally smacked me in the face with a snare drum as I was sitting in a school assembly, I was kicked in the face by a horse, and then once playing basketball and soccer. Wow. It was exhausting to write that.
3. I am extraordinarily claustrophobic. I hate closed tight spaces. I refuse to get on an elevator with more than a few other people. I hate long hugs. I can’t sleep with someone else too close to me in my bed. I have to close my eyes if I’m using a port-a-potting and pretend I’m in a field. Sleeping bags are bad news. I have no idea where it came from but it’s here and appears to be here to stay.
4. I love to travel. I’ve been to seventeen foreign countries so far and have a long list of more I want to go too. I can’t wait for the N-Man to be old enough to travel too so I can take him everywhere. It is so important to me that he grows up knowing there is more out there that what he sees at home.
5. I have a long standing love affair with Africa. Haven’t been yet, but I will. Again, no idea where it comes from but the cultures of the east central countries fascinate me. In 2004 I turned down an opportunity to take a two year job in Kampala, Uganda assisting with legislative reform and drafting in the areas of women’s and children’s rights. I could kick myself for not going. Note that I say kick, not regret. I can’t regret it because if I’d gone I wouldn’t have met X and have the N-Man. But ugh… what a missed opportunity. My church is doing a mission trip to Kenya in September but I can’t do that one either. I’m heartbroken. But rest assured, I WILL make it there eventually.
6. I have never had a pedicure. Not a professional one at least. I do them myself at home but have never paid for one. I’m going to change that next week before I leave for vacation.
7. I was a practicing Buddhist from 1994- 2007. I fully converted. I had a horrible experience with church and Christianity in college and just completely renounced my faith and walked away. It wasn’t until 2007 when I walked into my present church, through a random series of coincidences, or devine intervention, that I thought there was any Christian church anywhere that actually matched with my beliefs. Finding my current spiritual home is one of the best things that ever happened to me. However, I do still incorporate numerous Buddhist practices and beliefs in my day to day life.
8. I have mild dyslexia. I’m sure you’ve noticed I can’t spell or punctuate for crap. That’s why. I especially have difficulty with words that are spell something different forwards and backwards. Saw-was, etc…. It’s just painful sometimes but, in forums like this I’ve given up trying to please everyone. If you judge me for my errors, that’s your problem, not mine.
9. I met most of my present best friends on line. For four years now I’ve been a loyal member of a very active, local, message board. The women on that board have seen me through an engagement, wedding planning, marriage, pregnancy, down fall of my marriage, divorce, and beyond. I’ve been there with them through the same and more. Yes, we get together regularly in the real world too, but our haven of friendship and support is that board. Anyone who says they aren’t real friends as a result or otherwise tries to break it down can kiss my butt. I love those ladies to no end. They have taught me the importance of girlfriends.
10. Didn’t want children until 2005.Until I met X I adamantly did not want to have children. Loved kids. I just didn’t want one of my own. I didn’t want the responsibility and felt I was too selfish to do the job right. Having the N-Man has taught me I was right about that on many levels. Don’t get me wrong. He was very planned and not at all regretted, but he will definitely always be an only child. With one, I can still indulge me and live the life I want. Wouldn’t be possible with two. But praise the good Lord above for the strawberry sprite who bless my life and opened my eyes to what real love is all about. Becoming a mommy is the best decision I’ve ever made.
So. That’s that. Any question? Now to give some recognition where it is due… on second thought, I have no one to give it to because everyone is already playing. Apparently, we all already rock!
