Late July - 2005

It's hot here. I know, it's hot everywhere. My friend in Utah had the nerve to complain about the 100-degree temperatures there. They're also suffering(?) from 18% humidity. Please. I'm practically wading out my front door every morning into what must be a humidity level of 548%. And beating back vicious, blood-sucking insects every step of the way. Otherwise, our summer is going along swimmingly (sorry, couldn't resist). Afternoons at the pool, mornings spent forcing recalcitrant children to do math ("but it's summer!" they whine - I told them they could enjoy summer when they are grown-ups and gainfully employed - yeah, I lied).

You know, not much really going on around here. I labor under the delusion that if I step outside when the temperature is above 100 degrees, I may spontaneously combust; so we have mostly been hunkering down inside (aside from the above-mentioned forays to the local swimming hole). It's almost like being snowbound in the winter, but less fun. UNO has gotten old (actually, the kids are mad because I'm winning - spoilsports). The only excitement we've had lately is when Rachel fell into the potty. She was pretty shaken up. That should only delay her potty-training by a year or so. Anna is doing her best to remind us that she is just about 12 ("I hate summer! I hate everything!") Larry hides in the basement during her tantrums, the coward. He has also been sending away for convent boarding-school brochures.

Well, I need to get back to dehydrating chicken for Theo and Larry's backpacking trip next week. Looks, um, delicious. Really.

2 Weeks Later - July 2005

It's been a while, I know. But it's rather hard to type with one hand, and I'm actually expected to prepare dinners for my own family now, and Larry had the nerve to return to work. So...I'm a little busy. I must be putting up a good front of having my ducks in a row (ducklings, actually), as Larry is still planning to accompany Theo on a Boy Scout backpacking trip the first week of August. He calls it good exercise - I call it running away from home.

Rachel seems to have bonded with the baby somewhat. David attempted to pat Susie a week or so ago while Rachel was crooning over her in her infant seat; she (Rachel) smacked David's hand away and shouted, "Don't touch! This is Rachel's baby!" There is no font or punctuation with which I might adequately convey the peremptory way in which she said this. We don't call her the Empress for nothing, you know.

Brian and Rachel are still spending most of their spare time perfecting their whines. I try to keep them busy with playdough and Duplos and books and trips to the pool, but there always seem to be extra hours in the day (the long, hot, humid summer day) for them to work at driving me nuts. We've even included Brian in our summer-long UNO tournament by having him play open-handed (i.e., cards face up) so we can help him. That worked fine until this morning when, in the middle of a game, he said, perturbedly, "Hey! Everyone can see mine!" It bothers me he didn't figure that out until now. I had him targeted for medical school (not at all squeamish and fairly bright, I thought); but now I'm not so sure. Anyway, he wants to be a butcher. We don't know why. We don't want to know why.

David has been spending the summer being alternately ignored and ordered around. We vote him to be the kid most likely to run away from home. He has gotten very good at doing laundry and making oatmeal. I call it summer boot camp. Theo has kept himself occupied with his work at the vegetable farm, his experiments in the kitchen (he can whip up an excellent pesto now), and all the schoolwork I've decided to torture him with this summer. He is going on a practice hike this weekend, in preparation for the weeklong trip in August. What, the boys need to practice peeing in the woods? I hardly think so. This is more likely another gambit by the troop dads to escape from their wives for the weekend. And no, Larry isn't getting away with it this time. Anna (who has absolutely no desire to pee in the woods, thank goodness) has been a big help, when not at band camp or at a neighbor's house being paid to do what she does for free around here (her mother's helper business is thriving - she'll need to incorporate soon). Of course, these halcyon days may be ending, as she is less than a month away from turning twelve, and we can already feel those storm winds blowing closer, ever closer. Be afraid....be very afraid....