Y’all, things were busy around here last week. Let’s recap:
Wellll. I watched an entire season of Parenthood. All 18 45-minute episodes in one week. It’s probably one of the most irresponsible, ridiculous things I’ve done in my life. (Obviously, I totally live on the edge. And should get out more.) But you guys, I’m hooked. The show is that good. I’m kind of in love with the characters. All of them. And the so-real-it’s-almost-painful storyline. Maybe it’s been a sort of therapy for me or something… because, you know, if I can identify and commiserate with fictional primetime tv characters, then clearly my life is right on track. I have one more season to get through until I’m caught up for the new season premier this fall, but I’m exercising a little something called self-control and am taking some time (a few weeks? maybe a few days?) off before I launch into another season. Because once that Braverman drama starts back up, all self restraint is out the flippin’ window.
No worries, though. I did have one productive moment last week. Namely, I learned to put air in my tires. No really! This is huge! Unfortunately, what led up to this life-skill learning session was sorta ugly. As a disclaimer, I don’t do well with anything related to cars. Matt pretty much runs the show in the automobile department, and I just drive them. So, when a light came on my dashboard last week on my way to the kids’ swim lessons, I was clueless. I called Matt who casually informed me that it was low tire pressure light and that I’d probably be fine… which naturally, I translated as “your tires are ALL FLAT and you WILL get in a wreck and you WILL DIE.”
But off to swim lessons I sped (how in the world is it so difficult to get three kids in bathing suits and out the door on time?), pretty much forgetting about my flat tires. Afterwards, though, I figured I might as well try to scope out the damage (what are my tires supposed to look like anyway? who knows those kind of things?) and get some air in them. So I head out to the closest gas station, meanwhile calling my husband and father for tire-inflating instructions. No dice. Apparently, when they go to work, they actually have to work… and so they didn’t answer my calls. So there I stood at the gas station, nervously pacing around my car trying to figure out what I was going to do. I’m still convinced we’re all going to die in our precarious situation, so I start to give the nearby truck drivers desperate looks, hoping they could help a poor girl out. I’m guessing they didn’t catch on to my looks of desperation (or were maybe sketched out that a mom of three in a minivan was staring them down) because nobody came. Meanwhile, the ever-knowledgable Carson was yelling from the backseat, “mom! mom! the instructions are right there on the machine! they’re right THERE, mom!” but I didn’t have time for that mess. Because, remember, we were about to die from low tire pressure.
I finally gave up and left. Matt did get around to returning my call and heard something along the lines of, “maaaatt! my tires are flat! our van is tipping over! and we’re all gonna dieee!” ThankyouJesus, we made it home in one piece, tipping van and all (Matt claims that the tires really weren’t flat. and that the tipping to which I refer was all in my head. what does he know?). Aaaaand long story short (ha! short? i just rambled for three whole paragraphs about low tire pressure. why are you still reading this again?), Matt whisked me away that evening on a romantic escapade to the gas station to teach me the art of inflating tires. I am now complete.
So there you have it. I spent last week watching 14 hours of Parenthood and learning to pump up tires. And I kept three kids alive, but I mean does that even count anymore? This week is turning out to be the busiest ever- and no, not because I’m watching stupid amounts of television again. But because, somehow, everything has converged and has decided to be a Really Big Deal in the same week. Makeup tball games. Last soccer games. Preschool graduation. Field trips. And, remember, those three kids I keep alive and that little thing called A JOB that I work (which also, believe it or not, involves keeping kids alive. how do I always wind up in these situations?). But June is here. Which means things should be slowing down for a bit. I’ll let you know when that happens.