Time for that all important BACK TO SCHOOL celebration. I’m going to go take a nap. Heh.

Ok, now that’ I’m back, I’ll rub the sleep out of my eyes and post the obligatory first day pictures (both teenagers were NOT HAPPY about it…).

I demand to know who thought it was ok for my kids to become teenagers - and be in high school at the same time? Let’s get this straight people, I AM NOT OLD ENOUGH FOR THIS! One was bad enough, but TWO? I demand a recount!

And then there’s this:

Proof that she grew 42 inches taller this summer, and suddenly CARES ABOUT HER HAIR. What the hell? She’s even wearing clothing that MATCHES. Right down to her SOCKS. This had better not last… she’s only in 4th grade (How did THAT happen?!), you know!

But now, now I have to get to work, and adjust to the silence (BLESSED QUIET!) of my home and become productive instead of just sitting here going OMG IS SO QUIET for another hour. Before I do, however, I’ll leave you with one of the best gifts my Daddy and Mommy ever gave me. Every school morning, for the past TEN years, they’ve made my kids breakfast and taken them to school. It wasn’t something I asked for, it just kind of happened out of Papa’s insistence that they were too little to walk the 100 feet to the bus stop on their own, so he’d take them. Then he had snacks, and then they quit eating at home so I quit feeding him, so he feeds them. GOOD stuff too.

This morning, Nana made French Toast Casserole, and Papa served it up. I even got a piece myself - as did the Pup’s teachers. (My kid suck up? You betcha!) And the best part of it is, I get them up, out, and I get to go back to bed for a nap. I LOVE BACK TO SCHOOL!

And if you click that picture of Papa? he’s totally sticking his teeth out at me. The kids love that too. Ew. But, you know, he feeds my kids. I couldn’t really demand a better picture. Heh.heh.heh.

….or is this an unfortunate design choice?

Brazil’s beach vollyball’s uniforms - numbered 1 and 2… just like every other team. But their tops?

say this:

Yes. Their uniform tops say Bra 1 and Bra 2.

I’m not ashamed to say that I giggled so hard I couldn’t tell mom at first what I was looking at - then SHE giggled too.

Bra 1.
Bra 2.

BWAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!!

…the first week of having 18 gazillion blogs to work on didn’t kill me. It made me stronger! HA! or something. In the midst of that, someone (Hi Sarah!) asked for details - you can find some more of them over here, with more to come shortly, as there’s been.. well, a development. Heh. So stay tuned for that. Yup.

(Um, someone go make sure the Nana didn’t hurt herself when she fainted, there, huh? cuz I didn’t mean it that way! not THAT kind of development!)

Then, on Friday, I took a bit of a break because I had a Very Important Visitor. It’s been over a year since I’ve seen him, and I got to spend a full 24 hours cementing myself as the Best! Aunty! Ever! a role that I am completely comfortable with. Just ask the nephews and niece that live around the corner!

We did have a clash of wills at one point, but as that poor baby learned (just like oh so many before him) - I dated his father, a McD man. I married his uncle, a McD man. AND I gave birth to a McD boy. NO ONE can out stubborn me. It was a lesson that took about 45 minutes of screaming (him) and a strong embrace (me) coupled with calm soft words (also me) and an infinite amount of patience for the little guys (stop laughing mom, that too was me!) until he realized something that all the McD men eventually have to admit…

I win.

Lucky for them, I’m usually right, too. (grin) Even so, we had a lovely day together, and I hope that he is allowed to come and visit again. I even had the Buglet come to spend the night too, so that he had a playmate about his own age. They had a little while of jealousy over the Auntie, but then they settled into playing like boys should - ie: fighting and making up and playing and infinite questions of “Where’s my friend?” followed by “OH! there he is!”

They even agreed that there was enough Auntie Lessa lap for the both of them. See?

So thanks, ya’ll for letting him come spend some time with us - let him come again soon!

Oh. My. GAWD. ya’ll.

I’m freaking out, but not really freaking out, but KINDA FREAKING OUT HERE. But not really. Not like I could stop the progression of time, right? It was bound to happen, and I couldn’t be happier for him, but still OMG YA’LL!

And ya’ll are like “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT WOMAN” aren’t ya? Yeah.

So, let’s have a MUSICAL INTERLUDE! See if you can infer what I’m currently NOT FREAKING OUT ABOUT AT ALL! Because it was BOUND to happen sooner or later. I can’t help it if my mama’s heart was still hoping for ‘later’…

Yeah. Time to check the expiration date on those condoms in the window, huh?

(Quickstats - she’s a co-worker, 18, 5′2″, curly hair, cute, bubbly, sweet and has liked him for MONTHS. Out of the blue, finally, with a little nudging from his BFF, he made a move. Clearly a move she’s been waiting for. and again. OMG YA’LL! And all this is kinda vague on purpose, since I didn’t exactly CLEAR this post with the kid. *L*)

People will PAY to read me talk shit about my kids, my teenagers in particular.

INORITE?!

Shocked me too. I even warned them. I’m TOTALLY not the ‘normal’ mom, but they were all WHOO! YES! WRITE FOR US HERE! So I was like ooooooooooooook. Fine.

For the best introduction to a blog EVER - click here. Come play with me! *g*

And you can also come play with me here, here, here, here, here AND here (will start posting there this week, may have a co-writer for it too. He does less snark, more research. heh.).

Never can have too much of Lessa, right? Right.