Chris came home around 1am Thursday morning, adding an extra two days to his normal visit. Z woke up to the sound of our voices and instantly insisted on greeting him. We listened for about ten minutes as he tried to negotiate with the dog. "All done?" he would say, jumping up and down in his crib. "Puh-y, wan get down?" Finally, he heard our laughter, realized we could hear him and his pleadings turned into crib shakes and screams.His normal mommy-centric behavior curbed with Daddy home meant I could do things that I wanted to do and not have to worry about how toddler friendly they were. We're talking anything I wanted! I felt like I'd just won the lotto! Golden opportunities lay before me with endless possibilities. So, when Chris took Z to the park for a little father/son time...I took a nap, went grocery shopping, and had a bubble bath. Oh, I also had a beer. I am such a rebel!
We went down to the farm for a bonfire. It was an amazing day. Z followed Chris around all day like his shadow, except when he was announcing "Bye-bye!" and wandering off to climb up the grain elevator or play in the patch of nettles and poison ivy. Friends and family joined us. The paintball never quite got off the ground because everyone was too busy sitting around talking and catching up. But the 4 wheeler rides were a big hit with the kids. Especially splashing through the creek and hitting bumps that sent them airborne for a nanosecond, rear ends off the bike, arms cluched in a choke hold around Rob, the driver.When Rob returned, he held out his arms and said he'd trade me. I looked at my little carameled apple sticky faced boy and thought you've got to be kidding! But he wasn't, he took Z, and let his little grabby paws tangle up his beard and hair and gave me a few quick lessons on where the brakes and gas were on the quad bike. I nearly cackled as I drove away, thinking I could be in Tiajuanna sipping on margaritas and no one would know where to look for me!
There was a bonfire. We touched off a 10 ft tall pile of brush that we had been collecting all spring and summer. We roasted brats and hot dogs and made s'mores. We crunched on apples and carrots and celery. We sipped on 7up and coke and beer and we told stories from 150 years ago about the lights that used to follow the horses through the timber. Spencer, a sage 7 yr old, announced that the lights were a gateway to the other side, and we all agreed that this was probably correct. Or maybe just swamp gas.
My mother is never happier than when she's feeding people and my Dad is never happier than when people are sitting around talking and telling jokes. There was plenty of both this weekend. All in all, it was a perfect Labor Day weekend.
(the moon through the clouds at the farm)
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