Operation "Don't Be A Fatass" has begun and I'm pleased to say that in 8 days of having a membership to the Y, I've gone 6 days. Go ahead, tell me I'm awesome because I kind of am ( I lost 2.6 lbs this week alone! Wooo!). With almost two weeks under my belt of hanging with the baby and I can say that we're going to survive the summer (I think) and have fun (I think).

Some interesting things that have happened as of late:

Yesterday was a comedy of errors in which I kind of wanted to kill myself (not really, don't call for help just yet) after Tommy peed on me, the couch, himself and the dog 4 times and we all had to change 4 times.  He also sputtered pureed peaches me which was kind of like the Exorcist except it was delicious and not scary.  However, that was shirt number 5 of the day. Finally I gave up and went to the grocery store looking like I had lost a food fight, which if you think about it. I kind of did.  In other news, I apparently have a motherly bone in my body.

A few days ago my Mama Bear instinct reared her ugly head when I went to the Y daycare and dropped my baby off. When I came to pick him up, all different ladies were in there and I just pointed to the baby I wanted (my own of course) and they handed him to me!!! I flipped shit and told them to never just give me my child, always ask me for my ID card. They looked at me like I was crazy but whatever, my kid's the cutest and most well behaved kid in the place--everyone's going to point at him at one time or another!

As a teacher, I've had the awesome advantage of having lazy summers. Summers in which I would go out to bars or sit out on my deck into the wee hours of the morning, sleep in, layout, feast when I felt up to it, watch ER reruns when it was too hot (for some reason TNT is always on at my house and I have no desire to watch ER reruns because I never watched ER firstruns but that's what I do) Last summer was different in that I couldn't drink but I still had my freedom. This summer is incredibly different in that I can't drink (fine), I can't layout...I can't do anything really except for our very healthy options of taking long walks, going to the gym and babbling together on the floor.  So far, it's been pretty fun but I'm a pale ass mofo which makes me sad.  Also, the fact that I can't sit and read a book is a little sad too...my mom said in 7 years I'll be able to read again, I look forward to it.

At exactly 3pm tomorrow afternoon I'm officially done with teaching for the summer.  I am both elated and terrified. Elated because, yay! this has been the hardest year for me (worse than even my first year of teaching).We got a new curriculum, new textbook, I had a baby, you know--the usual!  

Terrified because although I love my child, I only really spend nights and weekends with him.  Basically, he's like a really cool cell phone with a really shitty plan.  So, as of Tuesday I get to be a mom and really hang out with my child but in the back of my head I keep thinking, "What the hell are we going to do together from 6 am to 7:30 pm?!?"  I guess we'll figure it out and I have a feeling that this might just jump start the blog as I try to stay sane.

I was waiting for my friend to drop by because she has something she needs me to take to a baby shower this weekend and I figured I'd do a little reading/ sunbathing while I waited. Just in case I didn't hear her ring the doorbell I put a note on the door telling her where I was...
She just came back to the deck to inform me that my note looks like it says, "I'm on the dick!" and then she said, "I wasn't sure what I was in store for once I came in the house, but then I realized that the "i" was actually and "e".

There's a little trait in my small family unit all share except for me because I'm too lazy...obsessive compulsiveness. John's an obsessive cleaner/task doer. My dog is an obsessive squirrel hunter. This is a new thing for Frankie, she never seemed too concerned about other animals and I'm not necessarily sure that she's trying to hunt them, I think she wants them to be her friends. She sits for hours under the tree where the squirrels chitter angrily at her but she just whines and paws at the air hoping they'll come down. There's nothing secretive about her behavior, she barks, she attempts to climb the tree and she "talks" (weird growly whine she does) when they freak out on her. This is what I see while I sunbathe.

...of perspiration/expiration.

I am a certifiable sun nut. I love to sunbathe, preferably where people can't judge me in my bikini, like on my deck (which I'm sure Creepy Neighbor has his binoculors firmly aimed at)...but it is stinkin' hot here in good ol' Pennsylvania, with the humidity it feels more like 105 F. So of course, the person I turn to in my melting time of need is John who can do nothing about it. Still, I send him this message:

So hot.stop. Send pool. stop. Pool boy optional. stop.

John gets home from work and while we're munching on dinner (I'm becoming a good cook, yo!) I tell him, "Oh my god John, I watched the saddest movie today!" because let's be honest, aside from laying out, my day wasn't all that exciting. He said, "Oh yeah? Which movie?" I replied, "Dear Frankie". He said, "Why was it so sad? What's it about?"

And so, with tears welling in my eyes as I thought back to the movie, and I carefully told him in about ten minutes all about the movie. As I wiped a single tear away, I waited for him to mock me for loving such an obvious chick flick. Instead, he says, "Wow, you tell the worst stories!" and he laughed at me. He laughed! I became indignant, "You asked what the movie was about, so I told you!"

"M, I asked for a synopsis of the story...I doubt you'd find all of what you said on the back of the box!" And then the smartass picked up the case and pretended to read my "long synopsis" on the back of the case. Then he turned to me and said, "Do you think we can get you to pretend to read the back and you could just retell the plot and I can video tape it?"

What a db...I liked it better when he wanted to film me naked.

PS. I'm not mocking Native Americans, I'm mocking this poorly made commercial.

Time with John is always limited. His commute takes several hours away from us every day. Having the summer off now is a little bittersweet. Of course, it's great to have the time off but now instead of just laying out, sleeping off the occasional hangover (because I could go out any night of the week with my friends who have weird work schedules) or ordering take out; I now find myself watching the clock to see how many hours until John comes home. And as soon as he does come home, we try to cram in as much as we can together. Last night was no different.

It started with a leftover pasta dish and a HoneyBrown each on the deck. We moved inside for a little geek-time where we watched our tivoed episode of Jeopardy! as always...did you know that it's my dream to be on that show??? I tried out twice. The first time I was close, the second time I missed my tryout because I was mopey over one of John and my breakups but the third time, I tried to do the online tryout and use John to help me cheat...that time I did the worst. What can I say? Karma's a bitch! Mid Jeopardy! John did the unthinkable and gave me a "sign" that he would like my tender ministrations on his penis. That sign being that it was out and ready to go. Do you think it's uncouth to mumble gameshow answers mid-blowjob? I think the jury is still out on that one.

Then it was time for our bike ride. After pumping up my tires, we were off. It's been a long time since I've been on my bike but every time I do hop on, I'm amazed at how free I feel. We hopped over curbs, did slow lazy meandering collision courses over in the school parking lots, swerved past pedestrians and yelled hellos to people we knew on the streets as we whizzed by them. Pulling into our driveway I felt exhilaration coursing through my veins. John was babbling about how much he loves his bike (he just had it fixed and it's the first time it has been rideable since last May) but I couldn't hear him. It was then that I fell off my bike and landed on my elbow. Apparently, in my exhilaration, I forgot to pedal and about gravity. As I lay in the driveway laughing, John parked his bike and picked me up to see if anything aside from my ego was bruised. I'm proud to say that nothing was. I'm sure the plethora of neighbors outside watching the spectacle will say that I was probably drunk or off my meds (neither being true--only one beer with dinner and I have no meds to speak of). Whatever. At least they'll never be interviewed and say, "She was always such a quiet girl, I can't believe she did this...".

Tonight is a BCT member's wedding...does the groom know how rowdy this could get??