If Blogging Was My Boyfriend

If Blogging was my boyfriend he'd be asking for his stuff back.  There I'd be, standing on my porch with a small box of shirts, movies, maybe a Glo-Worm (I don't know why) and a CD teetering on the top labeled "Our Songs".  I would say something about how it wasn't him it was me, and that maybe when I got my crap together we could try again.  He might say there would never be another girl like me and...he's right.  He may never find anyone else who teaches her children not to judge on Monday, and then sits down with them on Tuesday to watch Toddlers & Tiaras and makes fun of every single person.

Mercy, a month is a lot to catch up on.  Should I start with my groin injury or my suspicious rash?  Or happier topics like how I discovered "Smashburger" and a boy named Andrew gave us a free milkshake?  I also had a mammogram yesterday.  When I came back and told my kids where I had been my daughter asked, "What's a mammogram?"  I said, "It's when they squish your boobs between a machine to check for tumors."  She replied, "You keep your clothes on though, right?"  Poor thing.  Reminds me of her mother who used to think there must have been some kind of invisible film covering people's lips when they kissed in movies.

It's been so long we should probably crunch a few numbers. 

• Drew is averaging 1 inch of growth every 3 months.  
• Samantha got 1st chair for the flute section next year.  (This was a big deal at our house - there was tough competition.)
• A moth set off our house alarm at 4am
• Cory and I celebrated 19 years of marriage.  That is if you call waiting out the tornado sirens crouched underneath the stairs in our basement celebrating.
• Drew played 12 lacrosse games.  Drew's team lost 12 times.  
• Samantha ran 800 miles.  Or something. 
• No really, I'm quite thrilled that she has cross country practice for 2 hours every morning in the summer beginning at 7:30 am.  THRILLED, I say.
• Samantha doesn't get her license for another 31 days.
• On the first day of summer Drew had a friend over and I heard him ask, "Hey, you wanna watch Dance Moms Top 10 OMG Moments?"  AND THEY DID. 

And that doesn't even cover the big stuff.  First, the abbreviated version for those of you who are sick of reading already:  Cory almost died, we went to Vail, I got pulled over by a cop, we bought a car, I went to Vail again, and then I almost died. 


And for those of you who haven't had enough yet, read on.  It's true, I personally think Cory is very lucky to be alive.  A few weeks ago he was driving on a freeway when a semi truck went to change lanes behind him, but the semi cut it too close and clipped Cory's bumper, sending him into a 180 spin that flew him across the far lane of traffic and crashed him into the center median.  And then?  THE SEMI TOOK OFF.  Beautiful.  Our car was totaled, the perpetrator got away and as for Cory...he didn't even get whiplash.  Not a scratch, not a bump, nada.  It can only mean one thing: God is not done with him yet.  I guess God and I have something in common. 

Just like that we became a One Car Family (how spoiled are we that this conveys hardship?), and the next day Cory and I went to Vail.  When we got back I began my search for a 2nd car - it was during a test drive that I saw the flashing blue and red lights in my rear view mirror and I pulled into a McDonald's parking lot.  "Yes officer?" 
"I notice you don't have any tags, ma'am."
"I'm test driving sir, the plates are on the dash."
"I see.  So, how do you like it?"
"The car?  It smells funny."
"OK then, here's my card.  Good luck."

We didn't buy a car that day, but we bought one at 11:00 am the next morning and by 2:00 pm I was on the road to Vail again to celebrate my friend Ganelle's 40th birthday.  We ate pasta and fresh beignets, lounged in terrycloth robes, watched a guy slackline over a river, and then went ziplining over a canyon.  "Zipline" is a fitting title, but I find "The Crotch Killer" to be equally appropriate.  Still, we had a blast - right up until we were driving home in the rain and began hydroplaning on I-70.  We managed to avoid incident after several close calls, so I guess God isn't done with Ganelle or me either.  One more thing God and I have in common.

The busy isn't stopping but we're working it out.  And as for that boyfriend of mine?  Oh, he'll be back.