Put on Your Dark Clothes and A Somber Face, Ethan

Let me start by saying, as a warning, this whole thing is so totally inappropriate, I know this. The only thing is we all have been laughing all weekend over it. Lots of times, it's just better to laugh, right?
So we were going down to the shore this weekend to hang with Marc's cousin, Bryna and her husband Eric...

We found out that Saige got invited to go to a weekend birthday party at the shore too, so we asked if Chase could bring a Ethan

Ethan was of course psyched to go. We just forgot to mention one tiny little detail. In addition to the fun filled weekend at the beach, on the boat, having fun, playing in the sand we were also going to the cemetary (Shh... it's a surprise). Ethan's mom, Lisa had me doubled over in laughter Friday night about this. She said, "You know, the old bait and switch. Hey Ethan, let's go to the beach and (in a whisper) an unveiling." She said, "Don't forget to pack some black clothes Ethan, oh never mind why, just do it,"
This became our joke of the weekend, "the surprise." So anytime it looked like he was remotely having fun I would take pictures. First they went on the boat with Eric and Marc's Uncle Michael and Aunt Susan. Then to the beach, out to dinner, playing, roasting marshmellows. FUN FILLED (Shhh... don't tell, don't want to ruin the surprise.)




There are many more "having fun" pictures, but you get the idea. The funny thing is Ethan is an extremely easy going kid and really doesn't care what we're doing. Chase did tell him what was going on and he was fine with it. The whole thing lasted five minutes. It's a good thing he's Jewish because we made him read the prayer in Hebrew. He was a little nervous at first, but he did great. No, of course we didn't, that would have been crossing the line.

We topped off the weekend with a trip to The Cheesecake Factory. All good. He can't wait until the next time we invite him. Who know's what we'll have in store for him.Maybe find some inmates to visit in prison, or perhaps a cremation.

Marc, Don't Read This

This is truly a show about nothing. Well, not really nothing, a bath plug. Yes, a bath plug. You see, if you know Marc and I then you would know we (me really) are kind of scatterbrained. It's true. It's not nice I clumped him in there with me. He's only forgetful when he hasn't really listened. That's normal. I am forgetful....a lot. I lose things. I forget appointments, I'll miss a bill here and there (sorry honey). I simply can't help it. My brother, the magazine researcher (is that what you do Mark?) diagnosed me with ADD. At least it's an excuse. Usually my only recourse when called on my faulty actions is belligerence. I'm just not sure how else to react. I do find myself saying, "SORRY!" like a child. Thankfully Marc, my husband, is used to this, he has more patience than you can imagine and like I said previously, one of his special gifts is fixing things and making them right. Which works out perfectly dealing with me.
Here comes the bath plug part. So, we moved in this house a little over nine years ago. About nine years ago all the bath plugs in our house vanished. Right into thin air. Like socks in a dryer. One might think, "Hey, go to Home Depot, do yourself a solid, get some new bath plugs." Yeah, no. I can never seem to remember to do that. For a long long time we used this little pink cup out of Saige's baby bath toy stacking cups and it fit perfectly. So, see, no reason to make a special trip. We used that for years. Quite recently for some reason, that goes beyond me, the cleaning people took that little pink cup. I know it was them, the cup was here, they were here, the cup was gone. Even Mickey could do the math on that one. I don't know if they thought it was trash, I don't understand. I didn't know how to ask for it without sounding like a complete moron so I just ignored it was gone and took showers. Marc likes to take baths. He was upset. So I found this perfectly sized little face lotion container that blocked it. The only problem was getting it out, it was the exact height of the drain. So then I got these enormous rusty plier things and used them. Can you say white trash? Guess what? The cleaning people took that container too. Marc was furious. We think they're just screwin' with us. So being quite MacGuyverish he fashions a bath plug out of an old prescription container and tape. I'm not even kidding. It totally works. You're not going to believe this, last Friday rolls around, Jose and his wife who speaks no English, so I don't know her name are here and poof, that's gone too. Do you think they have missing bath plugs at home and just can't believe how clever we are? Or are they like, wtf are these things these idiots have all over the bathroom. Let's tidy up for them. Right in the trash can. So, I just went upstairs and saw a new one Marc made. It's making me a little nervous, cause today's Friday. I'm thinking of hitting Home Depot for Fathers Day. I hope he's not reading this.

Fig.1

Go Saige....

I'm a over worker outter. It's true. I admit it. I love working out. Many people hate it, not me. I can't wait to get to the gym or to run outside or go to a yoga class. It clears my head. It keeps me just on the sane side of crazy. I think it started when my kids were really small, I wasn't always like this. When my kids were babies, going to the gym was the one thing I did totally for myself. It was like two hours of freedom from all those pesky mothering duties. Then it just kind of stuck. At first I would have a babysitter come and I would go. As soon as Chase got old enough I started taking them with me. I quit my kind of meat heady simple gym to join one with a kids room. Monday through Saturday Saige, Chase and I would head out across West Chester to Mitch's Market St. Gym and they would play while I worked out and took a shower. I have heard so many mothers say, "Oh my kids don't want to go to the gym." I don't ever remember offering it up as a choice. It just was what we did. I was trying to lead by example. I wanted to show them something good before they got old enough to recognize a cosmo and know Kid Rock lyrics. All those experts claim it's the early years to make the good impression. I'm hoping that holds true.
So anyway, this went on through the years. Saige went off to kindergarten, it was just Chase and I. We joined a brand new gym that opened closer to our house and continued to make it our morning ritual until he too went to school.
Okay, here comes the point of my story. A few days ago Saige told me she wanted to start running. Yeah. I'm so happy. I have been waiting for this day. She then proceeded to set her alarm for 45 minutes before she usually gets up. Make her water bottle for the next morning. Make sure her I pod is charged. She got her clothes and sneakers ready and then made a little time schedule of how her morning would go. I left everything completely up to her. Even the waking up part. I wanted it to be her decision. Everyday, she's been down here dressed and ready to go by 6:50. Downstairs in the basement, on that treadmill, getting sweaty. I couldn't be more proud. She is so happy with herself too, she said yesterday, "It's weird, I thought I'd be tired after I was done because I got up so early but I actually feel more awake." It's like music to my ears.