Oh My Homecoming

Last month:
"Hey, are any of you going to homecoming?" I asked my children as we ate supper.
"No," Josiah said.
"I don't want to," Drake said.
"I think I will go with a group of my friends," Emery said.

Last 48 hours:
"Hey, I am taking a friend to homecoming," Drake announced.

Last 24 hours:
"I'm going to homecoming after all," Josiah announced.
"You know you have a band competition and senior pictures that day?"
"Yes, it will be fine."

Last 12 hours:
"Do I need one of those flower things for the girl I'm taking to homecoming," Josiah texted me.
"YES!" I panicked. "You need to get to the flower shop right now and beg them for a corsage. I have to take Emery to get her make up done, and I'll meet you back home. Good luck."

"Hey Mom," Drake said when I returned with a beautiful Emery, "I think my dress clothes need ironed."
"Don't you know how to iron?"
"I don't remember how."
"Then this is a great time for a refresher course," I said, feeling smug. I plugged in the iron and told Drake to grab his clothes and meet me at the ironing board. "What is this?" I asked uncrumpling the ball of fabric he handed me.
"My pants," Drake said.
"Why do they look like they belong to a small child?"
"Well, I haven't worn them for a long time."
"These won't fit you. Do you have any other pants?"
"I think there are some on the top shelf of my closet."
"Go put them on and meet me in the bathroom. I have to curl Emery's hair. Hurry, it's nearly time to go."

"Drake, those are huge," I said staring at the pants that would have easily fit two of him.
"Well, they are all I have."
"Seeing as how we have no choice, grab a belt and keep your shirt untucked."
"Oh, and do I need one of those flower things for the girl I'm going with?"
"You're killing me."

"Okay," I said to our homecoming huddle by the door, "here is the plan. I will drop Emery off at her friend's house and she will ride with them to take pictures at the pond. From there, I will drive to the park to take pictures of Drake and then speed over to the pond to get some pictures of Emery. Dad is with Josiah at his senior pictures and will get pictures of him and his group as soon as senior pictures are done. Break!"

Breathing a sigh of relief, I drove leisurely from dropping off Emery to meet up with Drake's group of friends. I knew I had plenty of time, in fact, I would likely arrive five minutes early.
"Hello," I answered my phone.
"MOM!" Drake, said in a rushed voice - as panicked as he ever gets - "I forgot the homecoming tickets at home."
"Are you already at the park?"
"Yes!"
My mind raced doing mom geography and came to the only solution. "Okay, I will go home and get them, but it will take me twenty-five minutes from where I am. I will miss your pictures, so have someone get copies for me. Then I will meet you at the restaurant with the tickets."

I sped faster than legally allowed to our house in the country, located the tickets, and raced to the pond just in time to snap a few glorious pictures of Emery looking gorgeous. Feeling proud and a bit emotional - BECAUSE MY BABY IS GOING TO HOMECOMING - I began driving to the restaurant Drake was at to drop off his forgotten ticket.

"Hello," I answered my phone.
"MOM!" Josiah said in a rushed voice, "Dad just left me with my group, but I forgot the homecoming tickets at home!"

"At least Makenna didn't go to homecoming this year," I said to Mike later, yawning from exhaustion.
"I know!" he agreed. "This was crazy!"

"Hello," I answered my phone.
"MOM!" Makenna cried, "A huge man fell on me at work and my ankle hurts! I can't walk."
It was broken.

I'm not a fan of homecoming weekend.

Cute Overload

There is a pile of kittens on my porch. Kittens are a vortex of time. Even walking near them sucks hours out of my day. I try to resist their tiny meows and their fluffy cuddles, but cuteness is actually addictive. I find myself holding them all in my lap even though I have no memory of walking to them. I tell myself to be strong, but, before I know it, I am kissing their fuzzy heads.

I think that the cuteness is exponentially magnified relative to the amount of kittens there are. I have five. One has three legs, so his cute factor equals twelve kittens. He is just learning to walk, and he does most of it on his face. It is heart wrenching, and I cannot stop trying to help him.

You can try to ignore the pull but you will fail. You will wonder how they are, if they are okay, if they have changed overnight, and once you make eye contact the day is wasted. They have you.

This is why I have given up trying to accomplish anything.

So Much Pain

My lovely daughter is currently studying esthetics, which really means skin care. Basically, that means she makes people look good. She's learning about stuff you put on and take off your face and rub on and take off your skin. 

"Mom, will you come in and let me practice on you so I can get some hands-on hours in?" she kindly asked me.
"Sure. Like you'll give me a facial or something?" I asked, innocently.
"Yeah. I'll see what I need to get off my list, and I'll sign you up for what I need to do."

Since I love her and want to promote her education, I scheduled an appointment. Now, let me explain that I am not a fancy person. I do not do complicated beauty procedures. I have not plucked, waxed, tanned, massaged, etc. I shower. That seems good enough to me.

When I arrived for my appointment, my sweet, beautiful daughter told me she needed to wax my face.

My face spent the rest of the day on fire. On FIRE, Ya'll. A burning torch kind of fire. And I did say, "Ya'll," and I'm not even Southern. That's how much fire my face was on.

And I still love her. That's the power of momhood.

Getting Disney

Five kittens were born to us last Friday. They are black and dark gray striped and one is all black with a white belly and paws. One has only three legs. Mama Cat is kind enough to let us hold them as often as we like, which is often indeed.

After the birth, I cleaned up because, although kittens are cute, the the birthing of kittens is horribly gross. Seriously. Nature is gross. So I cleaned up and settled the kittens into a box covered with a soft towel. Then Mama Cat hopped in and comforted her babies. They climbed all over her and fell asleep in crazy positions. I heard heavy breathing and noticed my two dogs - noses pressed against the glass on the other side of the door. Then the obvious father jumped into the widow sill and peered at his kittens through the screen, meowing softly.

It was a Disney moment.

I'm not going to get anything productive done. Ever.