What If I Said...: Summer Beginnings

Well. I should write a blog. There are many things I should be doing. And some things I should not be doing, such as sitting here at 1:30 in the morning drinking Diet Dr. Pepper and eating Peanut Butter M&M's. But what the heck? It's summer, isn't it? Here’s what’s happening:

There are a million ants in my kitchen. I don’t really know how to get rid of them. People tell me to put out the stuff that goes around the outside of the house. But that won’t work for us, you see, because the ants live in our siding. Our old, rotting, siding. So putting stuff outside won’t do us any good whatsoever, because the stupid ants aren’t outside. I try to comfort myself by telling myself that it could be worse. We could be infested with roaches, or termites, or fleas. Ants are by comparison much less vile. But incredibly annoying. I hate the way they march around my house like they own it. Where do they get that sense of entitlement? And they smell weird when you smush them. No, don’t take my word for it- do it yourself. I don’t know what type of ant they are. Typical, little black house ants, or whatever they are. But when you smush them with your finger, they give off this sharp, fruity, nail polish remover type smell. It’s so unnerving. The other day we were driving and something coming through the AC vents smelled kind of magic marker-y, and Ashton asked me, “Why does it smell like killing ants?”

Vacation is 4 1/2 days away. What have I gotten done to further our vacation plans? Nothing. Well, not nothing. I’ve done what I can do. I’ve gotten the laundry done. We will be going naked from now until Sunday. I will NOT wash anymore laundry. I have compiled multiple mental lists of what needs to be done- What I need to buy, what needs to be packed, chores and errands that need to be completed- but written no physical lists. Oh! And I packed Chloe’s suitcase. Just hers. She’s the only one of us who has enough clothes to spare. However, she has gotten new clothes since I packed her suitcase last week, and wants to pack those ones as well. So, I will be repacking her, and my initial packing was a waste of time anyway.

I started the weekend by going on a bridal shoot with my good friend Missy. We have gotten our business license for photography- that's another blog entirely, but you may congratulate us! Oh man. The shoot was fantastic. The bride is gorgeous, the weather was perfect (albeit a little buggy), the location fabulous. I so wish I could post some of the pictures, but the wedding isn't until this Saturday, so you will just have to take my word for it. I look at them and think "I can't believe I took this picture. Did I take this picture?!" More to come on that later.

This past Saturday my family got together to take family portraits. Missy was the poor soul we bewitched into being the photographer (She is wonderful. And brave. Very brave).

Finding a turtle was the highlight of the kids' - and the uncles'- afternoon

I started out in a foul mood. Anyone who knows me (and me with my family) will know the intensity of our relationships. We can intensely love each other, and we can intensely dislike each other. Saturday morning was one of my intense dislike moments. Getting my family together for an event- any event, but most specifically, pictures- is like herding spineless, brainless sea monkeys. I’m sorry guys, it’s true. You may get offended, but you’re not the ones doing the wrangling. There are questions that I answer and head off at the pass with valuable information as to location, time, setting, etc. (repeatedly!), that not a one of them remembers. So by Friday night, when I had received 17 texts and phone calls, I finally silenced my phone and said “I cannot do this anymore. I will lose my mind.” I very nearly did. But. When I get around my family, they work their magic on me. I can’t stay mad. I can’t even stay irritated. They make me laugh. They make me proud. They make me so happy. And although I made many of them promise me that if I ever- EVER- suggested anything as insane as family pictures again, they were to hogtie me until I regained a modicum of common sense, I might just be willing to try it again.


My goofy, charming nephew Aidan.

The original 6

My brothers

My own branch of the family tree

Yes. It's a lot.

We spent Memorial Day with Jeremy’s grandparents, his parents, and some of their friends. We always seem to straddle a line between the grown ups and the kids. But spending time with them and watching our kids and their little cousins play made me happier than I expected it to. We have a full life. It might seem mundane to some. But it isn’t to our kids. It isn’t to Jeremy’s grandparents, who get to see their great-grandchildren play together. And it turns out it isn’t mundane to me either, forging family memories that are more important than any other plans we might have made.