So, thanks to a snow day earlier this year, the kids had to go to school on Good Friday which meant that Ryan and I both had a day off while all the kids were in school. Actually, today it is in the sixties with thunderstorms so it could not have worked out better that last Friday was in the seventies and gorgeous. We somehow managed to bring the car to a complete stop as we dropped all the kidlets off at their respective schools and then we headed downtown for some grown-up free time. Because I have to do my olympic racewalking every day to prevent the Super Knot from going into Defcon 4 lockdown, the first thing we did was take a long walk around the lake, pausing to document the occasion with this obnoxious sweaty selfie in front of the city skyline.
THEN we did something I have always wanted to try but never have because of the inevitable oar fights and high drowning probability, STAND UP PADDLEBOARDING. I always see these people standing on surfboards as I drive past this lake and I've always wondered what the heck they were doing. People say it's really good for your core muscles and since I'm supposed to be working on those this seemed like a good thing to do. I obediently got on my surfboard next to the dock, kneeling and klinging to my paddle and was unceremoniously pushed away from the dock with very little explanation regarding technique. Eventually I managed to stand up on the thing and maybe ten minutes after that I learned to paddle it without falling into the lake. Which is what is almost happening in this picture.
Doing the J-stroke (TM Girl Scout Canoe Camp 1992) from a standing position IS good for your core. An hour later we had made a long slow loop down the river to a bridge and back and were both exhausted so we went out for tacos, did some window shopping, went into a bakery for amazing cinnamon rolls, and then reluctantly headed back to the burbs to pick up all the kids.
Saturday was a pleasant day of hanging around the house. James and I made these stupid cake balls that killed my soul. Seriously the frosting step was so infuriating and I got so wound up that James said soothingly "It's OK, sweetheart, we'll figure this out together." And then I got an IPA out of the fridge and invited him to eat as many cakeballs as he wanted while I sat on the porch. By dinnertime there was no evidence of the project anywhere in the house and also no one ate any dinner.
Sunday was Easter, which kicks off the season of "Is that a Hershey Kiss or Poop on the Rug?". The big kids mowed down all forty-eight eggs before James and Mary even realized what was happening. But that's OK because once they'd removed all the chocolate they re-hid most of the eggs for the little kids to find. James and Mary had the last laugh, however, because the next day while the big kids were playing outside they ate every last Hershey Kiss and Cadbury egg in every single Easter basket. It was a sort of tortise-hare situation in the end.
After breakfast we dressed in our coordinating pastels and headed to church, where we took a series of terrible photos as is our tradition. After this one James and Wes had a crab-walk race all the way across the gym that got so heated Wes bonked his head on the wall on the other side. I tell you that to explain his expression in all the rest of the pictures.
Even the promise of donut holes in the Narthex wasn't enough to cheer him up.
I could keep going. After church we headed to my parents' for brunch. Charley and my niece, Sibley, manned the bar.
My parents' Easter Bunny set up the traditional sock Easter Egg hunt. We ate yummy food. The kids ran around. We had cake for my dad's birthday. It was lovely and restful. Until we had to go home, which was a forty-minute car fight followed by an especially hellish dinner and bedtime.
And now it's cool and rainy and Friday again. We have a busy Saturday planned and Ryan's birthday on Sunday with hopefully some more work on the kitchen in between. I will leave you with this picture of the Megacarrot Charley pulled out of the school garden.