My little Abby burned her hand a couple days ago. She is going to be just fine but if you find the time to say a little prayer for her that would be wonderful. But most important a little prayer for her mama, my sister, because as you know it is way harder to watch your little one suffer than to actually suffer yourself. Motherhood can be a real heartbreaker.
Those of you who have had a child graduate high school knows exactly how I am feeling these days.
Those of you who don't are wishing he would just get gone already so I'll stop whining about it.
I totally understand...
However, tonight was another one of those lasts...
His last jazz band concert.
He is a pretty darn good bass player. That coupled with his best friend, who is also graduating, playing lead guitar next to him makes this picture all the more special.
I have a video of them playing my favorite song, Spain, which is very slowly uploading to YouTube from my phone. I realize that even if it uploads it may never upload to my blog...or is it download to my blog...whatever. All I'm saying is it almost never works.
In the mean time I'll tell you about my jalapeño mishap.
Ok so Rich started a garden in our side yard. He is growing onions, green peppers, potatoes, cucumbers, basil, jalapeño peppers, and tomatoes.
Now I know some of you who pay attention know that we hate tomatoes. However, we love salsa and decided to grow ingredients to make our own. This weekend we had a jalapeño that was ready and some onions, so I decided to make guacamole because we didn't have any tomatoes ready yet for the salsa.
OK I AM getting somewhere with this...
So I seeded the jalapeño under cold water and threw it into the food processor along with the onions and avocados. All of the sudden my thumb started to burn so I instinctively put it in my mouth.
Wholly guacamole my tongue was on fire. Who knew that stuff was so potent.
OK I totally did...I watch enough Food Network to know better...Aaron Sanchez would be very disappointed in me...
Since then I have washed dishes, my hair, my hands a dozen times, and still if I lick my thumb my mouth burns.
I am so excited that my favorite red head is coming to see me in a couple of weeks.
OK she is actually coming to see Andrew graduate.
And she might also be coming to go to Disneyland for the first time and see some princesses.
But I am sure seeing her Aunt Amy is among the top five.
This video better load faster the mundane is getting thick around here.
Finally...here may or may not be a video of Andrew playing bass on Spain. I love Jamo grooving out..
I am sorry if it doesn't work...but not surprised.
Just a few pics from the weekend. It was a very relaxed and fun weekend.
Rich had to work late on Friday and I got off a little earlier than usual so I came home and started watching old home movies.
I know I am a glutton for punishment.
It was kind of like that scene in Christmas Vacation when Clark gets stuck I'm the attic and sits and watches those old movies. Except it was a heck of a lot warmer and I didn't fall down the ladder when everyone got home. Although there were a few tears shed. I can't believe they were ever that small.
Saturday we went down to Santa Monica to pick up Bella from a Bar Mitvah party at the pier so we ate dinner and walked around. A very nice date night.
They have a Tesla showroom down there and we always have to stop. Rich's dream car...I'll have to admit they are very cool!
Sunday morning started with sleeping in a little and then I did something for me...
I ran 3.2 miles.
Rich put up our hammock and even though it was about 100 degrees outside we all took turns relaxing in it.
Rich is one of those husbands who just listens...he listens when I mention something I would want and then remembers. This means I always get the best gifts. This year I got a waffle maker (yes!!) and some chocolate and a personalized bag, and some very nice cards and a gift card to Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf.
I got all the things I wanted.
Rich BBQ'd tri tip.
The kids each vacuumed and cleaned up their rooms.
...and we had a family game of wiffle ball. Andrew took no mercy...as expected.
When people find out that you are going to have a baby they give you lots of advice and warnings.
They warn you about not getting any sleep, and colic, and the terrible twos.
They warn you about potty training, and the dreaded first day of Kindergarten, when you feel like your heart will pack up and run away forever.
They warn you about the teenage years and the arguments, and the heartbreak (theirs that eventually leads to yours).
They warn you about getting into college writing all those essays, keeping up that GPA, and SAT and ACT scores.
Those things are all fine and dandy and I can safely say we have navigated those waters successfully.
But what they fail to warn you about, especially when you have a boy, is that dreaded last at bat.
Baseball is something that Andrew has done since he was 5. Baseball is something that has been a MAJOR part of my life for 12 years.
There is nothing in his life that he has done longer.
As I sat on Wednesday night watching his last game so many memories filled my mind, and thus the tears started to fill my eyes.
As I watched him pitch a complete game against the number one team in his division and hold them to two runs I remembered the first time he pitched in high school and walked the first 8 batters and got taken out and seeing him sitting on the bench.
I remember car rides full of endless chatter when the game was won, and silence when the game was lost.
I remember all star games, opening day ceremonies, picture day, team parties, and traveling teams.
I remember getting to the field early so that I could have the shady spot on hot days and the sunny spot on cold days.
As I watched him turn an amazing backhanded double play ball I remember the fear I felt when he took the field as a 3rd baseman on his many tournament teams, just hoping and praying the ball wasn't hit to him.
As I watched him come up to bat I remembered his first time at bat when he played t-ball, hoping that he would know which way to run.
I remembered the day that my whole family from Iowa came to see him play and he hit a walk off grand slam home run to win the game.
As the game ended and they teammates gathered around the seniors I secretly wished for the days when the end of the game meant watching both teams of happy little boys run off to the snack bar to get their slushys not caring who won the game.
I thought about stinky ball bags in the car, soaking and bleaching pants, and the occasional cup lying around the house.
I thought about mean coaches, loving coaches, and reminding him that he can learn anything from anyone even if it means learning what not to do.
As I watched that last at bat I was thankful. I was thankful for all that he learned from baseball, and for those precious memories that will live with me forever even if right now they bring tears to my eyes.
As I unpacked my baseball bag and put away my stadium chairs, score book, and pencil. I was thankful for having a son who believes that you can accomplish great things with hard work and effort.
The University of Arizona is lucky to have Andrew as a future Wildcat. And maybe, just maybe, we might see another at bat in his future.
Alright so...here is the situation. I am a bad blogger.
I know that all 6.5 of you that didn't un-follow me during my hiatus are saying "nah you aren't a bad blogger, just a bit...let's say...inconsistent."
Truly this is a downfall of my psyche. I really can't do anything half way. I stopped tying to golf because I wasn't really good at it. I give up my entire exercise regime when I miss a couple of days, and you really don't want to be around me when I decide to clean out a closet...or ten. I either want to have it all or nothing.
That is how it goes with me and blogging. I either feel like I need to blog everyday or not at all. Quite frankly, neither of those situations give me much success. When I don't blog I quit and when I quit I miss it. I miss sharing my life with those I love and those who stop by every now and then to say hi. I miss reading all your blogs and feeling like I have other people rooting for me in my corner even if they are not in my little corner of the world.
I promise I will try to stop my all-or-nothing-blogging attitude.
I will start by catching you up a bit with some pictures.
Bella and the smart Maggie.
Andrew playing his final youth orchestra performance.
These three seniors started together on cello 7 years ago as little sixth graders. The one on the end moved to percussion.
As each senior was recognized and sat down. Andrew stood alone on stage with his Dad, the conductor of the orchestra, I thought my silent tears would soon turn to uncontrollable sobbing if they didn't get on to the last song.
I have some senior night baseball game photos on my camera I'll show you lately because it really isn't good to drown your iPad with tears.
OK that's better...nothing makes me feel better than my cute girl giving me a silly face...looking all tall...and all grown up...