You know it's the end of spring break when a perfectly wonderful school vacation devolves into endless, mysterious tears, crankiness, and an overarching sense of ennui. And I'm not even talking about myself!
Good thing school starts again tomorrow.
Honestly, we had a great spring break (after the stomach flu). Before vacation started, I made myself a list of potential spring break activities, just so we'd have plenty of ideas to keep us busy. In the end, I think we did all of them but one. Which meant that we were happily busy with field trips to a reptile museum, Cabela's, the library, the bakery, and the Mall of America (LegoLand, American Girl Store); salt-dough spring-garland crafts; playdates; movies; Easter egg-dyeing; E-Z Bake Oven-baking; manicures; homemade Play-Doh; sidewalk chalk....and probably other things I'm forgetting right now. All well and good. Especially considering the fact that the weather was decidedly chilly most of the time.
We even performed pet-sitting duties for two families, which meant that the girls got to walk our friends' cute shibu inu dog. Twice!
But all good things must come to an end, and after a five-hour playdate today (I watched my friend Laura's kiddos since she had to work but they were still on school break), my girls gradually dissolved into the horrible fussies, compelling me to feed them dinner at 4:50 p.m. and then put them straight into a bubble bath. It helped.
Over Easter weekend, Christopher and I watched "Beasts of the Southern Wild." Have you seen it? I loved it immensely, although my husband proclaimed it incomprehensible. If you haven't seen it--rent it. It's really, really good--the kind of movie you can't stop thinking about afterward. Plus, the back story is fascinating. If you get the DVD, be sure to watch the extra feature on "The Making of Beasts of the Southern Wild." I stayed up way too late on Easter Eve because I couldn't stop watching even though it was past my bedtime. I mean, come on---Vietnamese potbellied pig babies trained to wear costumes and do tricks, and then filmed in such a way as to appear as mammoth ice-age creatures of a six-year-old child's imagination? What the?!? I challenge you to turn off the "Making of" feature once you hear about that. I was actually talking back, out loud, to the TV, I was so stunned.
This week promises to be a little crazy: I'm solo-parenting for four full days and nights, the span of which overlaps with the children's school's annual Arts & Literacy Festival, my turn hosting the Third-Grade Girls' Mother-Daughter Book Club that Julia and I are a part of, and the opening reception for the spring All-Schools Art Show at a gallery downtown, for which one of Julia's paintings was chosen. Yikes. I'll be lucky if I can squeeze in a run or two this week, let alone regular blog posts.
In the meantime, who here has seen the J. Crew Factory chino shorts in neon azalea? I've wanted these babies for a year or two, but I wasn't aware that the pink is indeed a TRUE NEON (far, far brighter than they appear online). I can't decide if a fortysomething mom of two can get away with wearing blinding pink shorts all summer. What do you all think? There's always the bright yellow, instead. Also: five-inch, or seven? I've done the seven in the past, but I'm a tiny shortie; maybe five-inches are more proportional and flattering? But again--at 42? really? Even if I'm toned and tight from a school year of Jillian Michaels' Killer Buns and Thighs twice per week? I just. don't. know.