Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Three kids meal and a valium please!
Baseball is back into full swing. No pun intended. How many days are in a week? 7, you guessed it. We now have baseball practice in 3 different locations with three different children while Avery hangs on for the ride 6 days a week. All this said, means we will be hitting up the closest drive thru 6 days a week and maybe even 7. I still don’t understand the rush to get in 800 practices before the season begins. My husband attempts to explain this to me with such enthusiasm and excitement. The entire time I am watching his mouth move and I am thinking, damn, this is going to screw up my beach vacation, again. I roll my eyes and take a deep breath and just go with the flow. The only reason I go with the flow during baseball season is Hunter my middle would have a meltdown like no human has ever seen. He is so much like his dad when it comes to sports. You tell the boy in order to achieve perfection in the game you have to sleep with the ball and he does it. Chase on the other hand realizes he belongs to a team and puts forth just enough effort to get himself by in the game. I’ll have you know that he is a fantastic athlete he just takes after his mother. Like I said, he does just enough to get by. Then there is Jackson Lane wanting to play “pre-K” baseball (pee-wee). He is very similar to Hunter, adamant that he is a champion like no other 3 year old. He is UN stoppable unless it involves candy then he is gone like the wind. Now, do you all get my drift on the baseball scene? From now until the end of June or July we are either on a practice field or at the ball field. So the next time I roll through the drive thru I am going to ask, “Can I get three kids meals and a valium please, If you have it value sized I’ll take that too!”
Sunday, February 21, 2010
He's not old He's VINTAGE!!!
Today was a fantabulous day. Yes, I just made a word up... My father, Joseph Neal Rearden turned 53 today. We all gathered at the Rearden Estate for a family feast. That is being nice. My dad would call this a cluster.
I messaged my mother around 10:30 to ask what time the festivities were going to take place. She immediately replied around 12 but to arrive early. She then again replied with another text which stated, “I have 16 people coming over and your dad is cutting the damn Crepe Myrtles." I knew then that my father wasn't looking forward to the party!!! See for those of you that don't know my dad he is a man of little words, lots of knowledge, doesn't like a crowd (unless beer is involved), and hates to make a big deal out of a birthday. I don’t reply back to the text but scream at my children hurry up we have to leave, it's granddaddy's birthday. We all pile up in the truck like sardines in an over packed can and head a mile down the road. We arrive at the house and my Grandmother and Grandfather Rearden are there along with Joel and his brood. Lane and I take a deep breath look around the truck and tell the children with a stern voice yall please behave. Then all at once all four doors fling open and the kids hit the ground running. They immediately act like wild animals that haven’t seen a meal in a month. Jackson runs up to my dad and tells him, “Happy Birthday Granddaddy, now put me down." He gets on his Jeep and takes off. The other two run in the house to find Mimi and Avery sits helplessly in her carrier waiting to be thrown into millions of arms that she sees once or twice a year. After putting Jackson down my dad turns around and continues to fuel the fire on the grill. The Rearden-Spence activities are now in full swing.
Dad brings in this enormous amount of food for us to eat and we all start pacing back and forth for the food to be placed on the counter. He announces its time to eat and in minutes there we are lined up, 16 of us trying to fix our plates all at once. My grandfather states, “He is waiting for the fat people to eat first." Me and my dad look at each other and start laughing. Moving the story along its time for cake. My dad will not eat a cake that has lard for frosting after watching me and my mother decorate a cake about 5 years ago. My grandmother brought this chocolate pie that is to die for. Me and my dad starting arguing over who's eating the pie and who isn’t eating the pie. While me and good old Neal are bickering he looks at my mom and mumbles, “cut the frickin cake so they can go home." Well he wasn’t that lucky. We now have taken the festivities outside which continues on for about an hour or more.
My dad sits with four out of the six grandchildren and lets each one open his birthday cards. He then wants a picture with them and I am thinking what the hell is wrong with him??? Nothing!! He has finally accepted the fact that they aren't leaving and he might as well enjoy what is going on because he isn't going inside to take a nap. Everyone slowly but surely begins to leave. My grandmother and grandfather are getting ready to go and she asked my dad if he had any round up. My dad looks at her and shakes his head and asks what are you trying to kill. My grandfather is sitting in the chair next to me and he raises his hand very quickly and states, “Vi is trying to kill me." I start laughing to a point in which I can't control. After having four children I really have to watch how excited I get about things because the likely hood of me peeing my pants is great. While laughing to the point of crying my grandfather leans over and ask, “Do you think she (my grandmother) is crazy cause I sure as hell do." Now do you see where my dad gets his crap from?
Everyone is gone and my dad takes a deep breath and states, “I am going to take a nap, thanks I enjoyed it." During all this process of eating, eating, and more eating my dad only has one of his Nealisms to state. Life is like a roll of toilet paper; the closer you get to the end the faster it goes. I also noticed that he may have gotten a tad bit emotional after we said grace. The older he gets the softer he gets. I know you may have thought this was going to be overly hilarious or emotional but it wasn’t. This was mainly a way I could say, Dad I love you and thank you for loving me unconditionally through all my tough years. I hope we have many more years to celebrate the toilet paper running out. I LOVE YOU!!!
I messaged my mother around 10:30 to ask what time the festivities were going to take place. She immediately replied around 12 but to arrive early. She then again replied with another text which stated, “I have 16 people coming over and your dad is cutting the damn Crepe Myrtles." I knew then that my father wasn't looking forward to the party!!! See for those of you that don't know my dad he is a man of little words, lots of knowledge, doesn't like a crowd (unless beer is involved), and hates to make a big deal out of a birthday. I don’t reply back to the text but scream at my children hurry up we have to leave, it's granddaddy's birthday. We all pile up in the truck like sardines in an over packed can and head a mile down the road. We arrive at the house and my Grandmother and Grandfather Rearden are there along with Joel and his brood. Lane and I take a deep breath look around the truck and tell the children with a stern voice yall please behave. Then all at once all four doors fling open and the kids hit the ground running. They immediately act like wild animals that haven’t seen a meal in a month. Jackson runs up to my dad and tells him, “Happy Birthday Granddaddy, now put me down." He gets on his Jeep and takes off. The other two run in the house to find Mimi and Avery sits helplessly in her carrier waiting to be thrown into millions of arms that she sees once or twice a year. After putting Jackson down my dad turns around and continues to fuel the fire on the grill. The Rearden-Spence activities are now in full swing.
Dad brings in this enormous amount of food for us to eat and we all start pacing back and forth for the food to be placed on the counter. He announces its time to eat and in minutes there we are lined up, 16 of us trying to fix our plates all at once. My grandfather states, “He is waiting for the fat people to eat first." Me and my dad look at each other and start laughing. Moving the story along its time for cake. My dad will not eat a cake that has lard for frosting after watching me and my mother decorate a cake about 5 years ago. My grandmother brought this chocolate pie that is to die for. Me and my dad starting arguing over who's eating the pie and who isn’t eating the pie. While me and good old Neal are bickering he looks at my mom and mumbles, “cut the frickin cake so they can go home." Well he wasn’t that lucky. We now have taken the festivities outside which continues on for about an hour or more.
My dad sits with four out of the six grandchildren and lets each one open his birthday cards. He then wants a picture with them and I am thinking what the hell is wrong with him??? Nothing!! He has finally accepted the fact that they aren't leaving and he might as well enjoy what is going on because he isn't going inside to take a nap. Everyone slowly but surely begins to leave. My grandmother and grandfather are getting ready to go and she asked my dad if he had any round up. My dad looks at her and shakes his head and asks what are you trying to kill. My grandfather is sitting in the chair next to me and he raises his hand very quickly and states, “Vi is trying to kill me." I start laughing to a point in which I can't control. After having four children I really have to watch how excited I get about things because the likely hood of me peeing my pants is great. While laughing to the point of crying my grandfather leans over and ask, “Do you think she (my grandmother) is crazy cause I sure as hell do." Now do you see where my dad gets his crap from?
Everyone is gone and my dad takes a deep breath and states, “I am going to take a nap, thanks I enjoyed it." During all this process of eating, eating, and more eating my dad only has one of his Nealisms to state. Life is like a roll of toilet paper; the closer you get to the end the faster it goes. I also noticed that he may have gotten a tad bit emotional after we said grace. The older he gets the softer he gets. I know you may have thought this was going to be overly hilarious or emotional but it wasn’t. This was mainly a way I could say, Dad I love you and thank you for loving me unconditionally through all my tough years. I hope we have many more years to celebrate the toilet paper running out. I LOVE YOU!!!
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