I swear it was not intentional that I ended up doing two rather heavy posts in a row and then dropped off the planet. It just kind of happened that way. My weekend was not spent in deep contemplation of my marital status; honest!

Yesterday I made a trek to Logan Airport with friends. As I told another friend, before we departed, I would rather pluck out and digest my own eyeballs than voluntarily drive into Boston to the airport. I never fly from there. Because getting there is enough to make you want to get out of your car while you’re sitting in bumper-to-bumper standstill traffic on the bridge and jump off the bridge. Boston is a great city, and all, but unless you live inside the city limits or take the train in, I just don’t see the point. Anyway. The reason for the trip was that my friend’s husband is headed to Africa on a mission trip.

This is my friend who took me to my surgery and stayed with me all day. So eating my eyes in an effort to get out of the trip seemed ungrateful.

Down we went, flying over the miles of highway between here and there, until we reached the outer limits of the city. Then? The last four miles took longer than the entire rest of the trip. I sat in the back with my friends’ five-year-old son and fed him wheat thins and had endless discussions about how many lamp posts we’d passed, how many airplanes we saw, and how actually if you stop poking at it, your penis will stop being big. (Yes, really.) I think my friends were really pleased to have me along!

We made it to the airport and unloaded and everyone said their goodbyes (more wheat thins and airplane discussion for me and the 5-year-old while the couple had a last few moments), and then we drove back home again. My job–as I understood it–was to keep my friend from being too sad and whatnot. I took my position very seriously. I have no idea what I babbled about for the hour and a half that it took us to get home, but I’m fairly certain I talked the entire time. There was a lot of laughing. Probably because I divulged quite a few of my recent highlights as an idiot, including things like losing my temper with my children at bedtime and then hollering, “Use the hamper and put your clothes in the potty, NOW!” Yeah.

So after that exciting adventure, we ran some errands, and had some dinner, and then once her kids were in bed we watched Pirates of the Carribean, which neither of us had seen before because we live under rocks. We both loved it. It turned out to be an excellent choice for the end of an emotional day. And any time I get to see a somewhat-recent movie, I’m happy.

That was Saturday. Today, I’ve done church, errands, lunch with (other) friends, and various puttering around here at the homestead. Chickadee starts dance camp tomorrow and I’m still scrambling a bit to make sure we have everything we need. Lest you think I’ve put off the preparation for too long… well, I have. You’re right. But the Amazing Foot Growth Spurt Girl needed both new ballet slippers and new tap shoes, and I wasn’t shelling out money for two new pairs of shoes until I was sure her feet weren’t getting any bigger. (Now that I’ve typed that, she’s gonna grow two shoe sizes before camp ends; I know it.) So all of that stuff is just about ready, now. I predict huge meltdowns tomorrow morning, regardless of my preparation, but that’s part of the joy of kids, right? Right?? Heh.

And now, I have a date with a power screwdriver. Wow. That came out a lot dirtier than I meant it to. Ahem. Um, I have to go put together one of those toy storage bin doohickies. This is me, in my never-ending quest to get the toys up off the floor, where I just keep spending money on storage items and never really accept the reality, which is that we have plenty of storage area, just very lazy toy owners. I’ll keep dreaming, though….