Sept. 9-10

We had a great weekend.

On Saturday morning we loaded up the car and drove down to New Braunfels to spend the day at Schlitterbahn. (Thanks, Malcontent Mama, for sending your trade my way.)
I am embarrassed to admit that I have lived in central Texas for 21 years (this month!) and have never visited “the hottest, coolest time in Texas.” I’m not that much of a theme park person, frankly, am slightly agoraphobic, and loathe standing in line. But Schlitterbahn was wonderful, y’all. It was an overcast day, plus I think there was something going on in Austin that day, so it was relatively cool and practically empty. Pod and I decided that we would have to come back on our own, because neither child showed much interest in the actual rides, just the swimming pools and activity areas. No matter. It was one of those family outings that was slightly magical—everyone was happy the whole time, Her Majesty didn’t shit her pants in the pool (a first), and we just flat out enjoyed each other’s company. It made me reflect that there was no other place I’d rather be than with my family that moment.

And how cool is this? I am wearing on my wrist right now a slim orange plastic bracelet. We took a break from swimming to play some Skee-Ball at the park arcade (and I loves me some Skee-Ball), and W.B. took it upon himself to pay for the tokens with his own allowance, and then purchase bracelets for everyone in the family with the tickets we won. Isn't that sweet? And so mature? I’m not sure I’ll ever take it off.

But may I just make one, rather unsurprising, observation? There are some VERY FAT people in this country. I freely admit that I am heavier than I would like to be, so in some ways this is the pot calling the kettle black, but DAYUM! I didn’t know they made bathing suits in such large sizes. At times I felt positively svelte in comparison. I saw a 3-year-old boy who was so fat that he was probably physically unable to run. How can a preschooler get that fat? How can you let a child get that fat? My children are no strangers to Happy Meals, mind you, but what do you have to feed an active toddler to turn him into a butterball like that? I'm always willing to give people the benefit of the doubt--maybe this child had some kind of disorder--but there were enough fat kids on display that I was left feeling that this "epidemic of obesity" issue the news keeps going on and on about had some validity after all.

And can I say that there are people out there sporting some ugly-ass tattoos?

Then today was Wonder Boy’s 9th birthday. For the first time he planned his own party. He chose the guest list, he thought up (and built, with Pod’s help) the activities, he developed the schedule, and he stuffed the party bags himself. It was so cool. We had just a few boys over and W.B. had a fair. A small fair, actually, with just 3 games, but he raided his toy chest and made sure that everyone got prizes. I wasn’t so sure how it would turn out, but the other boys really loved it. They kept running inside to show off the prizes they had won. Her Majesty tagged along behind them, too young to understand that she was not actually part of the gang.

What made the weekend even better was that I thought I was going to be miserable the whole time. I woke up on Friday morning with the beginnings of a sore throat and head cold—you know, the one that everyone else in Austin has right now—and the idea of getting through a weekend with the activities we had planned (Daytrip. Birthday party. Frenzied housecleaning before birthday party.) horrified me. I gulped down the homeopathic remedy that always works for me on Friday night, and told myself that I could not get sicker this weekend. So far, it’s worked. I’m sneezing like a motherfucker and my nose is running, but so far my throat remains open and I’m able to function.

But I'd like a day off before going back to work tomorrow. I haven't finished the laundry yet.