Long-time readers may remember these pictures my son drew of me and my husband. Let’s see if he’s advanced in the last year, shall we?

This is me. I am happy that he gave me legs that go all the way to my neck, but my square hair-cut isn’t very flattering. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Mommy Scissorhands.

This is my husband. As you can see by the size of his pecs, he’s been working out. The look of shock on his face is probably a reaction to the fact that I cleaned the bathrooms, because with as hairy as he is, those drains can get pretty clogged. Maybe I should give him a trim.

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My son was sitting on my Mom’s lap eating some cherries when she said, “It’s good that you like cherries because they’re very good for you. If you have bad stuff in your body, they help get that bad stuff out.”

My son replied, “You mean, like if I swallowed a gun and then ate a cherry, it would help me poop it out?”

I would say he kind of gets the concept. Kind of.

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Tuesday night, my 10 year old daughter and her school softball team competed in the district championship. They lost. By one run.

That day was “Field Day” at school. The sun was out, it was hot and humid, and they ran obstacle courses for most of the morning and afternoon. By the time they got on the softball field at 6:30, they were tired.

Not to mention, out of the 10 girls on the team, one was out with a head injury and another (who played so we wouldn’t have to forfeit) had recently stepped on some nails. She played right through her pain. Possibly because my husband told her to “gnaw her foot off if she had to”. He’s a charmer, my guy.

These girls gave it all they had. All the hard work and determination paid off, but not quite as much as they would have liked. After they accepted their second place trophy and watched as the first place team celebrated, the tears began to flow.

But, my daughter didn’t cry. Not a drop. As a matter of fact, she was smiling and laughing…and happy. She was completely and totally proud of herself and her team, and she had every right to be.

As we were walking to the car I said, “I’m really proud of you. You pitched well and you hit great. But most of all, I’m really happy with your attitude right now.”

She replied, “Yeah. I’ve been telling myself that even if we lost, I would be really glad that we made it as far as we did. I thought a lot about it and that’s the same thing I’m going to tell myself if I ever get on American Idol.”

It’s good to know that her successful softball season didn’t keep her head from being in the clouds.

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Friday afternoon, I picked up my daughter at school, ran home to pick up the puppy, took her to the vet (then took her back home after her appointment), then quickly got my son and his gear together and drove him to t-ball practice. Also, what else is new? This is why I sometimes forget to breathe.

After practice, the kids and I stopped by a carry-out for some Corona milk then drove home to make a quick pit-stop before heading out to a cookout. On the way home I gave everyone jobs so that we could get to our friends’ house on time, because I knew they were waiting on us.

I told my son, “Your jobs are to take off your cleats, put your socks down the laundry chute, go to the bathroom, wash your hands and grab your Crocs.”

Then I looked in the rear view mirror at my daughter and said, “You let both dogs out and feed them.”

She nodded then asked, “What are your jobs?”

I replied, “I’m going to give the puppy her medicine, give your brother his medicine, and I need to touch up my makeup.”

My daughter questioned me, “Makeup? Why do you need to do that?”

I tried to reassure her that I wouldn’t be cutting into her play time. “I just need to touch up under my eyes.”

“Oh. I can understand that.”

I sarcastically replied, “Gee, thanks!”

“No, Mom. Just because you don’t get enough sleep and you always look so tired.”

“Uh. Thanks, again!”

“Wait. I mean, everyone needs eye makeup, but especially you.”

My daughter. The girl can dig herself in a hole and she doesn’t even need a shovel.

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