We looove Fridays. The boys have fun stuff at school, like art, and stay for gymnastics till around 4 o'clock. That means that I can work from 7 or so in the morning, until well after 3, and really get into a groove. (yes, seriously, I like this.) Then, I pick the boys up, and they are all happy and jolly because Fridays are fun and they totally love gym; and I am all happy too since I got so much work done.
Then, we buy a couple of pizzas and go over to Debs' house to hang out and wait for the rush hour traffic to subside.
The boys love this, as James and Meighan have a major video game centre. James isn't allowed to use it at all during the week, and my kids haven't even got a TV let alone computer games, so they fall to with great gusto.
Sometimes there is a cricket or football match instead, or other outdoor game. But I know that Sam, in particular, looks forward to visiting James' playstation (or whatever it is) all week.
Debs and I have tea with Aunty Helen, and soundly abuse whoever we know that may need abusing. This afternoon that person happened to be me, as Debs informed Helen (to huge amusement) of what I had said about her (Debs) on one of my recent posts!
I should consider myself lucky; the last time I was mean to Debs, (mean being an understatement: much meaner than the average adolescent girl ought to be...and that's saying something) she didn't speak to me for 12 years! Or was it more? No doubt I need to be reminded!
The fact is, during a time of my life when I really, truly needed a best friend, a friend like Debs, I shut her out. Along with anyone else who might have been there for me. Why? Well heck, if I knew that, I could go on to solving all the problems of the world. But it is so sad to think that when we needed each other most, we could not be there.
We have both been through plenty, and life, of course, will continue to throw crises large and small in our paths. But gosh, it is so good to hang out and laugh, rant and cry, and laugh again, about it all.
Plus, my godson Alex has the best little swagger I have ever seen! Even if his Dad DID wash Alex's preschool uniform shirts with red coveralls. Alex is the hottest toddler in a pink shirt and socks, that I have ever had the pleasure to torment.
Then, we buy a couple of pizzas and go over to Debs' house to hang out and wait for the rush hour traffic to subside.
The boys love this, as James and Meighan have a major video game centre. James isn't allowed to use it at all during the week, and my kids haven't even got a TV let alone computer games, so they fall to with great gusto.
Sometimes there is a cricket or football match instead, or other outdoor game. But I know that Sam, in particular, looks forward to visiting James' playstation (or whatever it is) all week.
Debs and I have tea with Aunty Helen, and soundly abuse whoever we know that may need abusing. This afternoon that person happened to be me, as Debs informed Helen (to huge amusement) of what I had said about her (Debs) on one of my recent posts!
I should consider myself lucky; the last time I was mean to Debs, (mean being an understatement: much meaner than the average adolescent girl ought to be...and that's saying something) she didn't speak to me for 12 years! Or was it more? No doubt I need to be reminded!
The fact is, during a time of my life when I really, truly needed a best friend, a friend like Debs, I shut her out. Along with anyone else who might have been there for me. Why? Well heck, if I knew that, I could go on to solving all the problems of the world. But it is so sad to think that when we needed each other most, we could not be there.
We have both been through plenty, and life, of course, will continue to throw crises large and small in our paths. But gosh, it is so good to hang out and laugh, rant and cry, and laugh again, about it all.
Plus, my godson Alex has the best little swagger I have ever seen! Even if his Dad DID wash Alex's preschool uniform shirts with red coveralls. Alex is the hottest toddler in a pink shirt and socks, that I have ever had the pleasure to torment.
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