Coming back to work from a long weekend always throws me off. Today is Tuesday, but completely feels like a Monday, which means I am all out of sorts.
We had a lovely holiday weekend. On Saturday, we went over to the Father-In-Law's house for a cookout and swimming. Chickenhead and his cousins always have fun together, and I love seeing watching them play. Not only do they all look alike, but they all have similar mannerisms. They're growing too fast!
We had a bit of a panic moment when Chickenhead was in the pool. We were all sitting by the pool, talking and taking turns keeping an eye on the boys. I suddenly heard a lot of splashing and coughing and turned to see Chickenhead going under. Even now, remembering it, it makes me sick to my stomach. The Husband and I both stood up and were headed towards the pool, but my BIL and his friend dove in to the pool, clothes and all and pulled him over to the side. He was a little shaken, but OK. He swallowed a bit of water and panicked. Every fear I ever had about something bad happening to Chickenhead ran through my head. This is the thing I fear more than anything else in this world; my sweet, wonderful child having his life cut short by some freak accident. Truth be told, I think I was more panicked than he was.
After the Husband and I calmed down and made sure Chickenhead was alright, I told him he had to get right back in to the pool. It was the absolute last thing in the world I wanted to tell him, but I knew if he didn't go back in, he would be afraid of the water, and never want to get in again. So he went to the pool shed and grabbed a pair of floaties and as an added safety precaution, flippers. I don't know what the flippers were supposed to do, exactly, but he wasn't taking any chances. I calmed my nerves with a few marshmallows roasted over the fire pit.
Loony Landlady came through in a lurch, and got the A/C guy out on Sunday (!), and he fixed us right up. Cool air! No humidity in the house! My hair thanks you, Loony Landlady. Frizz-ease can only do so much.
We are still going round and round with my mom and her car. A couple of weeks ago, her BIL came and took her car(long story, his name is on the title along with hers), saying that he didn't think she should be driving. Mom was upset, because she thinks she's fine to drive. They had 'words', and yesterday, my uncle showed up at our house, dropped the keys in my hand and stomped off. I thought Mom would be happy to have her car back (and no, I don't think she should be driving, either), but no, she was not happy at all. I said, 'but you said the other day that you wanted your car so you could go whenever you wanted to'. She looked at me like I had six heads and said that no, what she wanted was for someone to drive her everywhere, whenever she wanted to go. Oh. I'm sorry, Miss Daisy. You want a chauffuer. The Husband and I don't have any problem taking her to the dr or to the store or whatever, but I don't know. She can't seem to accept that she's not able to roam around the Walmarts or Hobby Lobby for hours on end. And she can't understand that I don't shop that way anymore. I make a list, go get what I need to get and get the hell out. I don't really have time for anything other than that.
Plans are coming right along for the big birthday event next month. I'm going to order this edible cake topper for Chickenhead's cake. Awesome! Invites will be mailed by next week; I'm going to finish making them this weekend. He's super-excited, and I love planning this kind of stuff for him. We are actually doing two celebrations, the Guitar Hero party for all the kids, and the next day, a cookout at my father-in-law's house for family. That way, the grown ups in the family don't have to be subjected to a bunch of 9-year olds rocking out to loud music. I'm sure family drama of some sort will ensue over this plan, but I'm sticking to it for now!