Summer, summer, summertime

Blogs always seem to slow down this time of year. Everyone's outside enjoying the weather, or if you're like us, outside trying to hack down the hayfield that pops up in sporadic areas of our yard.

My dedication to this blog falters for very few reasons.

Illness (only in extreme cases, as I'm sick pretty much every day).

Marriage problems (a.k.a. the "get off the goddamn computer" speech).

and finally...

Vacations.

I'm happy to report it's the latter.

Since I can't keep track of a doughnut let alone important holidays, I didn't realize - when I originally made plans to go to Milwaukee - that this past Sunday was Mother's Day. My mother offered to watch the kids so Mike and I could spend time without hellions for a few days. Smart lady, her.

This past weekend was nothing as dramatic as the last trip up to visit my cousins, as I had a husband chaperone. And I finally learned to walk in my black heels. Now the brown heels, on the other hand...

***

Here goes.

Drove up in rush hour traffic. On a Friday. In Madison. And Milwaukee. On the day of the Brewers / Cubs game. Where Danny Gokey was performing the national anthem. Can you say, "Oh shit I think we're gonna die in a fiery wreck"?

Mike and Ryan went to the Brewers game while Erin and I went to a pizza restaurant and I had a moment of clarity with the words, "Which one of these drinks will get me drunk fastest?" Moment of clarity passed, and so did the second Beverly Hills Iced Tea.

Erin and I teetered around the outdoor shopping mall where we found some adorable strapless dresses at New York & Co. Of course I went with the noisiest color... blaze orange.

I'll look like that in it, too. After a decade of working out every day and swearing off pop. That'll happen.

We met up with Mike and Ryan at a bar downtown. Hmmm... nothing really interesting happened there. We got drenched on the way to the cars and even more so when I had to play air traffic controller to squeeze Erin out of the parking space. "Forward two inches, back two inches, forward three, back up, stop, forward, stop, you do the hokey pokey and you turn yourself around..."

At Ryan and Erin's, Mike proceeded to play a game I like to call: Last One. Mike, I hear you laughing. This game is played by two people, one with a guitar, and the other one named Mike. "Ooh, do you know Cliffs of Dover? Last one, I swear. Ooh, how about the intro to One by Metallica. Last one, I promise." Poor Ryan. This is the song Mike desperately wanted him to play:

Ryan's exceptional, but this is one of the most difficult songs he could have picked. Um yeah, maybe next time, Mikey.

I always get stumped thinking back on Saturday and what we did. Then I remember... we spent something like five hours waiting to get tattoos. When it was finally my turn, it took about a half hour and only cost $70. Pictures to come once it stops looking like the black death on my back. Erin and I are already planning our next one... tee hee.

That evening we did dinner. And bowling. And I found out I still suck at it. But in that regard, I wasn't alone. The "winning team" averaged a score of 115. On a side note, what good would bowling be if we didn't take pictures of each other's butts? On another side note, I'm holding onto those pictures for blackmail.

Then we went to Star Trek at the luxury theatre. Loved the cameo by Spock.

Finally, we went home and passed out. Mike was first to bed, and when I went to check on him, he was caressing a stuffed Tiger's head. At least he got some action because the rest of us were too tired or sick to function.

Since no one wanted me to cook for them, we went to IHOP the next day. We'll always have that moment to cherish. I never did identify the mystery goo on my spoon. Mmmm... pudding.

***

During the car ride up on Friday, Mike had turned to me nervously and said, "Oh yeah, I forgot it was Mother's Day this weekend. I'm really sorry. I didn't get you anything." I laughed so hard at how anxious he was. I don't know how he did it, but he made me simultaneously feel sorry for him and forgive him, even though I didn't expect anything.

I didn't tell him that just getting away for the weekend was enough for me.

A bonus was coming home to three happy children feeling refreshed and able to deal with the stress of it all once more.

Turns out my next vacation is Father's Day weekend. I really need to invest in a planner. Or a personal assistant. Something or someone who can keep me up to date with these random holidays.

***

Highlight of the weekend was brought to you by Mike, current Captain Obvious but newly ordained Sir Misspeaks-A-Lot.

Holding up a towel toward Ryan, meaning to ask if he could use the bathroom, Mike said with an upward inflection, "Shower?" It was one of those moments that cannot be duplicated properly, but from Ryan's face, you could tell that my husband had just propositioned him.