Mike came home today from a trip. I was expecting him tomorrow. Because I’ve been breaking cars/trucks and they’ve been shuffling in and out of the repair shop, it didn’t occur to me he was really home when I saw his truck in the drive. I thought the guys had dropped it off for him.
I came in the back door and saw immediately that things were not like they were when I left a few hours before. There was a large bowl in the laundry room sink and the dog was in the house – when I’d left him out – and he was acting very excited. I looked at him and felt a whooosh of a sickening adrenaline rush and the thought forming – painfully slowly – to get the kids back out of the house before seeing what was going on. Scary. And then when I did see Mike’s things and then Mike, there was not a big hug and an “Oh, welcome home!” moment. No. There was not.
Instead, there were a lot of mixed thoughts going on that included:
What sort of bad guy cares about stainless steel bowls?
Dog, you are useless.
Oh, it’s Mike? WHAT? (breathe, breathe.)
I was going to wax my eyebrows tonight.
I’m going to see my sister on Friday and her eyebrows are ridiculously flawless, always, and this is a problem. Waxing schedule not negotiable.
I usually clean house before he gets home… did I…? No.
I’ve never claimed Mike and I are good with communication, but still. Sometimes a text is in order.
In other news.
This is good news. (Although, so is a husband home a day early, probably, and after the shaky/sick feeling goes away, I’m sure it will feel like good news. But let’s hope that happens before morning when he’s on the next plane.)
Starting again. Sidenote: Adrenaline thoroughly messes with blogging.
Baseball news. Last night was Caden-7yr’s first practice since we went bat shopping and since we had the practice in the backyard where I pelted him to pieces. And?! Y’all! That ‘method’ WORKED. Caden-7yr hit everything that came out of the ball pitching machine thing last night. EVERYTHING. Like, 15 solid hits in a row. He looked good.
If he can hit the awful pitches I throw, then suddenly all those other balls from the machine just seemed too easy and predictable, right?! And, perk: Not one of those hit him. I was excited. Okay, I still am. I just had to tell y’all.
I love you.
9:33 pm
That. Is. Incredible! My family is not athletic at all. We tried to get our 8yo involved in soccer last year and it was painful just to watch. He was a complete space cadet. He’d start dancing or twirling in the middle of the field while the game went on around him. His attempts to kick usually missed the ball.
You’re a very dedicated mom. I hope he knows how much he owes you, lol. But it sounds like he paid well, for all your help.
MIchele recently posted..The Farm Life
12:43 pm
Michele,
But isnt’ it also fun to watch them twirl and space out on the field?! That sounds adorable. HA! Good point. He paid dearly for those improvements, I’m afraid!
how are the chickens!?
5:54 pm
That’s awesome for Caden! I did used to love it when Ethan was little and he’d be in the outfield watching ants on the ground.
The eyebrows aren’t flawless. Unless yours have begun to resemble the craggy brows of certain male relatives who shall remain nameless, I won’t even notice yours. Just hurry up and get here!
8:26 pm
Scott was so involved in athletics that we assumed Jeana would be too. We took her out of soccer because she cried after every game. If her team lost, she cried because they lost. If her team won, she cried because she felt so sorry for the other team. We decided competitive sports were not her thing.
Jan recently posted..Frankie
9:47 pm
LaLa,
your eyebrows ARE flawless. mine are fine. fixed. they will not be embarrassed to be near yours.
Jan,
That story proves why i have always thought jeana is one of the most sincere, genuinely kind people EVER. (i think she comes by it honestly!)