It is official. I suck at Blogging. I have sat down and tried to write a few times but have not have the ability to "stick to it" and finish each post. I did save them so maybe someday I can revisit them and polish them for "print". But considering that my last post was BEFORE we hit the beach, and that was at the end of JUNE ... Well, I just SUCK.
The beach trip went fine. Well, except for the gods sending us a curve ball the night before we left as well as while we were on the road. We had a derecho that included 80 mph winds that took some limbs off one of the two walnut trees we have behind and to the side of the carport. The limb wound up BEHIND the Highlander on teh driver's side. Needless to say, the Highlander got some scratches from that as well as sap on the hood that we didn't notice right away. Did you know walnut sap EATS PAINT? I didn't until after we got home from the beach and washed the salt off the poor vehicle. Luckily, I called in the damage the morning we left for the beach and the driver's side is now all nice and purty again. As if the walnut branch was not enough, as we were on the road to OBX, a car in front of us on I-95 kicked up a rock and hit the edge of the windshield. This produced a small chip ... and a crack that extended over a foot and a half as soon as the rock hit us. *sigh* So in addition to having the Highlander repainted we had to get the entire windshield replaced. What a way to start off a family vacation.
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| What a crack! |
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| Walnut tree sap |
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| Scratches |
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| More scratches |
Once we got to the beach, determined not to let the damage to the Highlander be an omen, things were mostly ok. Of course, I came down with BRONCHITIS on the first full day, but I was able to go out and enjoy the waves a couple of days thanks to massive applications of guiafenisen cough medication. We also were able to enjoy watching fireworks while sitting on the beach since our week happened to coincide with the Fourth of July. My dad and step-mom came out to spend some time with us, but they were so worn out from travelling that they didn't make it to meet up with us on the Fourth when they were supposed to. In fact, I stayed away from the beach all day on the Fourth waiting for them to show up - only to be told repeatedly that they were coming and then later that they fall asleep again. *sigh* We did travel up to their hotel room on the 5th to eat dinner with them.
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| The wee man put his own clothes away |
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| I can see shades of his teenaged face in this photo |
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| My little man busts a move on the beach |
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| Fierce five year old is FIERCE! |
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| Sunset over the dunes and houses |
Since we got back (and got the windshield replaced - which fell under our deductible, AND had half the Highlander repainted) I've been in a flare. Yes, for almost two MONTHS I've been unable to concentrate, unable to get adequate quality sleep and been unable to make it through the day (without being hella-cranky) without a nap.
And now we face the night before Kindergarten (cue dramatic music)!
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| RP at his table |
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| Obvious name tag is obvious |
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| Playing |
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| The CUBBIES |
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| RP's cubby |
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| Nice, smile, son! |
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| All the classrooms have ADDRESSES |
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| Under his apple in the hallway |
Yes, school starts tomorrow for our intrepid five (and a half! as he reminds me) year old. We have met his teacher, Mrs. Ammons. We have taken all his supplies to school. We have seen where he will be sitting. We have bought a LUNCH BOX (and it had to be "Star Wars with Light Sabres on it) plus a drink container AND a hot entree container. I have bought school clothes and new shoes for him. Grammy bought him two new shirts and a hoodie. We have an assortment of healthy snacks ready to go into a brown paper bag in the morning. We have CAPRI SUN in the house (which reminds me ... need to put some in the fridge tonight). We started going to bed at 8:30 almost two weeks ago to get ready. I have been getting up at 6:15 am for a week to get ME ready and figured out how to program the coffee maker to start making coffee at 6:05 so it will be ready BEFORE I wake up.
