So, it's been awhile...

We are working on our second full week of summer vacation over here and I am thoroughly enjoying the lack of schedules and early morning stupors although Dracen is going to baseball camp from 9 to 12 four days this week. While one would think that something he loves so much would be motivation for him to get right on up out of bed when he is awoken at 8:15 a.m., one would be oh so very wrong. That boy has always had an independent streak a mile wide (I do it myself!) but when it comes to getting out of bed in the morning, Mr. Independent goes AWOL and it's all Mr. Help-I'm Helpless-And-I-Can't-Get-Up. 

His brother has been sleeping until ungodly hours of the day and spending most every one of his waking moments upstairs on the XBox which, in light of the dream I woke up from this morning, doesn't really seem all that bad. It was one of those dreams where you wake up gasping for breath and then quickly thanking the good Lord that it was all just a very bad dream and then praying that it never, ever, ever comes true...

I made the discovery that he had somehow managed to sneak away enough hours to have his entire torso tattooed with the most ridiculous and meaningless of tattoos. Y'all. I'm not even kidding when I say that I scared the bajeebies out of myself because I broke out a can of mama rage on him that I didn't even know I owned.

I demanded to know WHO? WHAT? WHEN? and WHERE? because somebody was dang sure gonna pay...and the next thing I knew I was all up in the face of some long-haired hippie dude (I guess I got my answers) giving him a great big scary piece of my mind, complete with spit flying, informing him that I'd be seeing his arse in court because he had made the biggest mistake of his life when he took it upon himself to tattoo my thirteen year old and that I would spend the rest of my life, if I had to, making sure he went down in scorching flames.

The last thing I remember was the look of pure terror on this guy's face when the realization hit him that he had just been served his worst nightmare because everybody knows that hell hath no fury like a mama bear scorned. 

And then I woke up.

I think the dream was somehow prompted by the gazillion chigger bites he and Dracen got while helping their popaw do some yard work last Friday. They both got eaten up with them and as I was applying some Benadryl to the ones on Devin's back, I realized that he's grown some more and is now not only a couple of inches taller than me but a whole head. It is the most peculiar, surreal feeling to watch the tiny baby you gave birth to surpass you in height and weight. Bittersweet.

In other news, I've been spending much of my time working in the yard and just haven't been able to find the motivation to blog much. I get the feeling my posts will most likely continue to be fewer and farther between for awhile, or at least until the temperatures soar into the upper 90s and the humidity rises to a hundred and sixty-two percent, in which case I'll be here every day whining about how  my unruly hair has jumped the train tracks to Frizzville and I can't go outside because it's just hotter than blue blazes out there.

But then again, I may be back tomorrow because I'm just all reckless and unpredictable like that. 

I will leave you with a photo of the Adirondack chairs I painted duck egg blue last week. Charlie's best friend, Paul, made them for us a couple of years ago and I suddenly got the urge to give them a makeover. This color makes me plumb giddy...

Happy June!