What? I'm sorry I was just dreaming about falling down a hole. Come again.
"Do I have a tux? You know, like to wear?"
Apparently, Jacob's teacher told the kids to dress nicely out of respect for the fifth graders who were graduating. Jacob, like always, took it too far and determined he HAD to show up to school in a full-up three piece.
"Um no. We don't own things like that. Maybe you can tape a strip of construction paper to one of your shirts so people will think you have a good mom and that you own a collared shirt?"
Jacob snuck away mumbling under his breath and then I heard him rummaging around in his closet. I closed my eyes really tight to try to return to dreamland, preferably not falling down a hole, when Ryan bounded up next to my bed. His playful eyes bore holes right through my eyelids.
"What?" I asked without even opening my eyes.
"Mommy, do I have a tux?"
For FOX sake. "NO!"
I gave up on sleeping an extra ten minutes and rolled out of bed. When I found my way to the kitchen to warm up some Last Day of School cinnamon rolls (in case you think I MAKE stuff from scratch-"yay Pillsbury!"), my two oldest kids were there waiting for me. Jacob found a collar shirt and a clip on tie and looked about five years older than I last saw him. Ryan...well....he was dressed like Ryan. I was suddenly overcome by one of those emotional mommy moments and had to rush them outside under my favorite tree to snap some photos.
Last day of Preschool 3s!
Last day of first grade!
And from there, the ridiculousness mounted over the course of the weekend.
I left my younger two in the capable hands of their grandma (who Jon affectionately calls "Meema"). And headed to work where I spent a ridiculous number of hours cranking out briefs.
As my husband and I were dolling out chores for the weekend, I drew the short straw and was given the wonderful responsibility of taking our cat to the vet. He's been randomly pooping in places that are NOT his litter box (he's never had this problem in his entire 9 years of life!) and we suspected maybe something was wrong.
Have you ever taken three children PLUS a freaked out animal to a veterinary office? Imagine .... no, you cannot imagine. There are no words. On the plus side, I discovered our vet has a kennel service. So now I know where to drop off the kids when I can't get a last minute sitter.
On a related note, I also discovered a new trick for using the HOV lanes during rush hour:
So, after a long, long wait in the waiting room, and an even longer wait in the exam room. The vet asked some questions, did an exam, then gave us the news. BTW, is it really horrible that I had to think twice when the vet asked me what our cat's name was...because we just call him Cat! I don't know what I was expecting? Maybe a bladder infection? Maybe a neurotic cat disorder. Maybe a failing butthole closing muscle? Is that a thing?
I did NOT expect what the vet laid on me, which went something like this:
"Maam, your cat has stress."
"Excuse me, what?"
"He is suffering from emotional turmoil or anxiety. He's stressed."
"My cat has stress?"
"Yes. The good news is that we don't have to give him anti-anxiety medication yet."
"Yeah, all you have to do is hand feed him some wet cat food (no more of that dry stuff now), give him lavender oil massages, and I also recommend a catio."
"Lavender....Wha.... Hold it now.... What's a catio?"
The vet then handed me his phone, which had been bookmarked to a Pinterest page with this picture:
"A catio. It's a cat patio."
I laughed outrageously, packed up my cat and left the exam room, continuing to laugh outrageously. But the vet chased me down in the hallway, "maam, don't forget this!" (Also, I'm NOT EVEN a maam, thankyouverymuch.)
Yep. I just paid $150 for a photo session of my cat's bladder. For that much money, I was expecting department store quality! They didn't even show me the series of shots and let me pick the one I liked best or even try to tempt me with a collage of their chosing. At the very least I should have been allowed to pick the background. Sheesh.
But yeah. At $150, that's going into a frame. Fo' shizzle.
I came home in a cranky storm and made the kids fix their own lunches. Ryan opted for a self-inspired pepperoni, cheese, and mayo sandwich. Ok, then.
And then I caught Ryan feeding his stuffed puppy out of a baby bottle and wondered if I had stumbled upon the source of my cat's stress.
Other highlights of the weekend involved swinging in hammocks with my baby:
In between my running and hammocking, the cat could really learn some great de-stressing techniques from me.
I woke up Sunday morning to find that the big kids were already outside, running back and down the street "flying" kites they had each received from their schools as end of the year gifts. (Poor Ryan, I just realized that sometimes I group him as a "big kid" and sometimes as a "little kid." Such is the life of a middle child, I guess).
When I saw the kids running up and down the street giggling, kites semi-aloft, I had to run outside to watch. There's something so Quintessential Childhood about children running with kites (even if it's at 8am in the morning). I had to soak it all in in person.
Jacob has his sunglasses on :)
Back inside, Jacob handed his dad this Father's Day card, which I had not seen prior. It's....well.... It's the most phallic looking Father's Day card I've ever seen in my life. It's supposed to be a tie, obvi. But .... all I see is a big black..... (what would an inkblot counselor say about me? Yikes).
We spent Father's Day shopping and planning for our trip to the Philippines. Oh yeah, by the way, we're going to the Philippines in two days. Which involves exactly one 11 hour flight to Seoul, Korea and one four hour flight to Manila. Did I mention we will be traveling with three children? Yep. Pretty much. My father-in-law has been in charge of this whole trip. It was his idea, his plan, and his execution. Basically, we're showing up at the airport and that's about all we know. I'm told an itinerary WAS in the works but I'm not sure what happened to that idea.
I'm not going to lie, all of this not-knowing-anything about a 12 day trip overseas to a country I've never been to before is making me slightly on edge. I mean, I'm a pretty go-with-the-flow type of person. In fact, firm plans tend to make me stabby. BUT I like to know that there IS a plan, just in case, you know? (So, who's gonna give ME a lavender oil massage?)
After trying to track down an extra compact flash drive for our SLR camera (apparently they don't use them for cameras anymore) without success, we decided to get one thing on our list accomplished: haircuts for the boys.
Despite loving his long, blonde hair, I decided to give in and get him a big boy haircut. He sat perfectly still on my lap eating his lollipop while the barber lady did her thing. We walked out of the barber shop with less hair on our heads, and more hair on our suckers. And now my baby is a little man!
Hair cuts are serious business.