Only in New England

There's an old saying in New England, "If you don't like the weather just wait a minute." (As in..it will change in a minute)

This weekend I was stupid enough...(I mean lucky enough) to spend the weekend watching Major Mook's baseball games in Connecticut. As we were packing up for our late April trip, all the weather reports were coming in with an amazing prediction of mid 80's and sunny all weekend. I BELIEVE......... THEREFORE, I PACK...

Well, mostly the report was accurate HOWEVER.....

We were fortunate....(ehh unlucky) enough to draw the 8:30 game on Saturday, a doubleheader no less! Yippee...get three kids (and a hubbie) outta bed and dressed and fed for a field arrival time of 7:30!! (I didn't have to make that all happen thanks to some good friends...we worked out a nice carpool situation!) But alas, we (me, Middle and Mini Mook and said carpoolers) arrived for the game, in our predicted 80 degree weather attire. HOWEVER IT. WAS. COLD. Being that I am from New Hampshire and have a Mook playing sports most seasons, I was able to go through my van and find appropriate attire...Yup, there we were on the bench rooting on our team, wearing our shorts and our capri's and short sleeve shirts (with hoodies over them!) and knitted hats (Thanks Memere!) and mittens and gloves! Ah...finally warmth..... but wait it is New England after all.

Shortly thereafter the fog burned off, the sun shone through and it was truly a glorious day! (The second game better than the first, in weather and in outcome). But only in New England do you L.I.T.E.R.A.L.L.Y. take off your knitted hat, and gloves and blanket ..and put on your sunscreen. (Yup, because I live in New England I had that in the van too!)

So that being said I started the day freezing, and still came home with a sunburn!

I
LOVE
New
England.

If you don't like the weather, just wait a minute.

Uhhh...sorry???

Here's the story (there's no man named Brady....)

Mini-mook: Mom...Muma?
Me: What?

Mini-mook (flustered): You messed me up!! When you said that.
Me: Uhhh...sorry.


Mini-mook: Mum
Me: Yesssss?

Mini-mook (flustered): You messed me up!! Don't say WHAT!
Me: Uhhh...sorry.

Mini-mook: Mum...Mama..Ma...Mommy...MAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!
Me: WHAT?

Mini-mook: You wouldn't answer me!


Apparently, sometimes, there is no way to answer the 3 year old mind.

The ~SPECIAL~ chair

So, 12 years ago when we bought our kitchen table (which we actually still like!) It came with 4 chairs, little did we know at the time, that we would someday be a family of 5. Yup...one chair short of a family dinner (oh there's a few other puns I could do, but I am not going there, right now.) All this was fine up until last year when we finally got rid of the highchair and we realized we couldn't all sit at the table. Well, we have a beautiful decorative chair that my sister-in-law hand painted for us for a housewarming present (Thanks Mona!). Mostly this chair sat in the corner and looked pretty, occasionally it was the time out chair but we never really used it for dinnertime. I am sure you know how this story goes, no one wanted to sit in the "different' chair, so each night there was a battle, pushing, shoving and jockeying to get to the "regular" chairs. Being a "brilliant" Mom and trying to make everyone happy, I decided that the misfit chair would from now on be know as the ~SPECIAL~ chair and that whoever sat in the ~SPECIAL~ chair would get to talk first about the best and worst part of their day (our mealtime talk). Stop me if you know where this is going....they fight over who's going to get to sit in the special chair. Of course the rule is we rotate, but I can barely remember to brush, floss and keigel every morning, I am really supposed to remember who sat where last night??? So yup, in my moment of brilliance I changed the rules of the game from three kids fighting over two chairs (i.e one unhappy kid) to three kids fighting over one chair (i.e. two unhappy kids).

EACH AND EVERY MEAL!!


~~~~~~ Way to go Me!

Sunday dinner at the house!

So we get home from church and I begin the preparations for a nice Roast Beef. I pan sear it, a roast onions, bake the potatoes...you know the works. As I am putting said roast into the oven, my dearly beloved says....."I really need to go into work today" trying to hide my disappointment I say "okay, I understand" thinking times are tight and everyone is laying off, I really should be thankful that:
1) He has a job to go into and
2) He is so crucial to the product that he needs to be there on a Sunday afternoon.

Flash forward, hours later...the roast is done, the mini mook is still sleeping, the moderate mook is up at a friends house, and the major mook is outside riding bikes with a friend.....So there I sit, A-L-O-N-E at a fully set table...now I could be sad (I was), I could be lonely (I was), but as I poured myself a glass of wine and enjoyed my meal...no one asked me for milk, nobody asked me to cut their meat, nobody fought over who had the special chair last time. Ahhh Peace AND quiet, at the same meal. Ya, I coulda been sad that I did all that work for a nice family meal, and it didn't happen...but instead I sat, I ate, I sipped my wine. For the first time in I don't know how many years I ATE...my whole meal without getting up once and without speaking to anyone. It was nice...but it was lonely too.

But as my mother used to say every cloud has a silver lining........ now I don't have to plan a meal for tomorrow..BONUS!!!!

Was he being smart or a smart-ass???

A few weeks ago, Major Mook* and I were in the car on the way to his basketball game. On the other team was a friend of his from baseball. The boy had told Major Mook that he had pneumonia, but he was going to try to play. (It was the finals after all and he is a key contributor...but that's an aside). I said, "Yes, he does have pneumonia, but it's not contageous." He looked me right in the mirror ( I was driving after all) and said " If it's not contageous how did he get it?"

S-T-U-M-P-E-D.

Still weeks later, I am not sure if he was serious of giving me shit!

The Lord's Prayer

Today, as in most Sundays, we attended church. Like usual, it was a frustrating experience. I always enter church expecting to find a peaceful time to meander with the Lord, and to look upon my beautiful children seated perfectly in their pew and listening intently to the stories from the Bible.

However, what happens looks more like a series of scenes from Married with Children meets Everybody Loves Raymond. Kids are crying, crayons are rolling under pews, someone inadvertently (or maybe I am niave) hits someone and I spend the hour flip-flopping between shhh-ing and threatening "no donuts!"

But then in the quiteness of pre-nap time, with my 3 year old all snuggled up next to me, he says "Mumma, say the Daily bread one with me"...I smile and help him through the Lord's prayer, thankful that while it seems like nothing spiritual happened at church, something got into his little noggin.

AMEN!