The 21st Century Woman.

Somehow I have managed to live 34 years without EVER mowing the lawn.  I have never cranked a lawn mower nor pushed or driven one on any yard I've ever owned or lived on.

My life has since changed.

Remember The Big Injury of Vacay '11?

Well that Big Injury has not healed itself in time for the monthly trim and therefore it fell into my hands.

I'm not gonna lie.  I was a wee bit excited about this new opportunity.  Moreso than the husb.

"Hey, I'm gonna go mow the grass!!!" I say in all my giddiness.
"Please no, I'll do it.  I'll figure out how.  Seriously. You can't.  I'll be the loser man who makes his wife mow the lawn.  You CAN'T do this."
"Whatever. I'm a 21st century kinda gal.  I'll take care of it while you stay inside and do what I always do. Go bake a pie."
"When have you ever baked a pie?"
"Nonsense Man. Go do your job and I'll do mine."

And so, with my two little boys in tow, I got out all my supplies as well as their Fisher Price mowers and edgers.  And then I just stared at the lawn mower.

"Um, buddy, how do I do this?"

The 4 year old manned up, got his gloves on, showed me what button to press, what bar to hold and what string to pull.  VOILA!!  We have lift off.

The only issue was this:

97°F
Feels Like: 105°

I picked a swell time for my first mowing experience.  I began hallucinating about midway through the front yard and imagining myself passing out, dropping to the ground and wondering which neighbor would come to my rescue, if any.

Thankfully I made it through unhindered, save the 42 pounds I lost in sweat.

And I'd say it's a right nice job.

For a girl.

Now where's my pie?????

I'm all for labeling.

I may or may not have this book on my nightstand.

I don't know how it got there. And based on the title, I'm not really sure what it's about.

And I surely wouldn't know who it could pertain to.

I mean, I'm not naming names or anything.

The G-4 Summit.

I just finished reading George Bush's Decision Points, his post-presidential 47 million page memoir. In his book, he designates each chapter to explain the reasoning behind some of the major decisions he made in office. It was very intriguing to read the behind the scenes details. And as if I didn't already know this, I am confident that you should NOT elect me to be the president. I know I was probably set to be a good option, but I just don't think I'm willing. Thank you for not voting.

As funny as it sounds, I may have learned a thing or two about decision making from his memoir.  I do try to glean SOMETHING from the books I read, even if I'm fighting through it tooth and nail. [sidenote: The hubs doesn't understand why I continue reading books I hate just to say I finished it. I do it. All the time. It's annoying, but I can't NOT finish a book I've started.]

So, in honor of my recent learnings, we held a G-4 Summit at the house today.

I cancelled our beach plans due to temper tantrum, lack of gratitude, squabbling, et al. I sent all kids back to bedrooms to put their street clothes back on.

Bewilderment.

I called the Big Kids in and said, "Listen. Here's why we're not going to the beach. {insert blah blah blah reasonings}. If you can have a meeting with the Babies and decide to change your ways, I'll reconsider."

Tears turned to smiles and off they went.

"BABIES, BABIES, COME HERE!!. We need to have a meeting," Buster says. Babies come a-runnin'.

"Um, I don't really know what a meeting is," he says looking at Big Sis.

From there, Big Sis steps up to the podium with confidence and control.

"Guys," she begins, "We need to change our attitudes. Mommy said we can go to the beach if we start acting thankful and quit screaming. So can we guys?  GUYS! STOP SCREAMING AND LISTEN TO ME! CAN WE BE THANKFUL OR NOT? Ugh. Fine."

Big Kids enter my room to give me the report, while Babies continue with their screaming, wailing and gnashing of teeth.

"Hey Mommy? We decided to be thankful. Sooooooo, can we go to the beach now?"

Decision Point: Summits are effective in bringing about peace.

In Switzerland.

Vacay, it does a body good. Or not.

Living in a coastal area where we go to the beach weekly, it may seem odd that when we vacation, we ALWAYS go to the beach. We have no desire to vacay in the mountains or Orlando (not yet at least), just straight sand and salt water.  

It does us well.

Even at naptime. No sound machine needed.

Beach and pool all morning. Lunch inside followed by a nap and then back out to the beach and pool. It is a rough rough life. And very predictable.

UNTIL....(drum roll please....)

The Big Injury of Vacay '11

                         

Pulling a boogie board at warp speed in the shallow ocean can wreak havoc on a wrist and elbow.  Especially when you bust it and land your entire weight on the palm of your hand.  Oops.

I can honestly say I never knew how much I loved his right arm until it was rendered useless. So many things require 2 arms: LIFTING BABIES, CHANGING DIAPERS, BATHING BABIES, GETTING DRESSED, BATHING ONESELF, TYING SHOES, DRIVING A 5 SPEED, PACKING A VAN WITH COPIOUS AMOUNTS OF ENORMOUSLY HEAVY LUGGAGE, UNLOADING SAID COPIOUS AMOUNTS OF ENORMOUSLY HEAVY LUGGAGE...

But those are just silly little things. Other than that, his one-armed self has been really helpful.

We had front row seats to the Shuttle launch (as front row as St.Augustine can be from Cape Canaveral) but the cloud coverage was too thick. All we got was the sonic boom, but these guys didn't care. They just wanted to hang out with cousin Keenen (and his lil bro JP).

We had to document the yearly family photo with the Big Injury of Vacay '11 front and center.

Glad Wild Man took it upon himself to call in our reservations for next year.

Peace out, yo.