Oh man, what a blog slacker. The summer is FUH-LYING by. The other day I was talking to B and legitimately thought that the 2nd Annual Tar Beach Golf Invitational (a new tradition with the old bandmates) was months away, and it is literally in two weeks. Gah! Damnit! I don't even think the summer we got married and were planning a cross-country move flew as quickly as this one has. Why can't the winter move this quickly?
Also, my child is going to be ONE next month. ONE! That's too big of a reality, so we're not even gonna touch that right now.
In the meantime, we had this past weekend and we have next weekend before it's a one month cluster of fun and insanity: Tar Beach Golf Invitational... 4 days home... Cape Cod Trip #1... 1 day home... Charlotte's 1st birthday party... 2 weeks home... Cape Cod Trip #2...
This past weekend we spent outlet shopping, which consisted of driving an hour to the fancy outlets, spending about 2-3 hours failing at every store we walked into, and then ending the day at the store that has served us so well in the past - Banana. Oh, sweet, sweet, Banana Republic Factory Store, how I love thee. We walked in feeling totally defeated and depressed after a wasted day, and took to our separate men's and women's sides of the store, only to meet up 30 seconds later, each with a stack of clothes 3 feet high, laughing with euphoria and relief. 40 trips to the dressing room later, we left with our fists pumping in the air at the 80% off end-of-summer sales.
We were supposed to go to the drive-in that night and finally cross the first thing off the Life List, but we got home about 4 hours later than we thought, so it was take out pizza and cable tv instead. Oh, and chasing an injured drunk down the street, waving cars out of his way so they didn't hit him, and waiting for the ambulance to arrive.
Yeah. It all started so simply. B waits in the car while I run into the pizza store. I get back in the car and the conversation goes from "Whoa, look at that guy! He can't even stand up" to "Wait, I think he's in trouble, don't leave yet." to "OHMYGOD he just fell off a concrete staircase HEAD FIRST onto more concrete!!" I saw it start to happen and quickly turned away, but B saw the whole thing. I call the world's most laid back 911 operator while B follows the guy down the street, waving at cars on the major road to slow down and avoid the wandering, bleeding drunk. Eventually all the emergency peeps showed up and we went home to resume our boring Saturday night. I will say that there's much less guilt about gorging on take-out pizza after you've played superhero. Certainly all that 911-dialing and car-waving must have burned off some calories.
But today it's back to the usual - clean up the chaos that descended on the house over the weekend and tackle the to-do list on the fridge.