Open Arms

(That title is for you, Lea -- you freaky Journey-lovin' fool). Also, before I go any further, Happy Birthday to the best Ninny there ever was!!! We love you!!

Now back to me (I mean, uh, the family). My life swung back into normalcy today, what with me being able to actually get out of bed unassisted and all. Menana brought the kids back bright and early this morning, muttering something unintelligible and taking swigs from her flask, and right away it was Eat Eat Eat, Mine Mine Mine, No! No! No!, followed by screams, cries and my personal favorite number, Shawn hollering, "Boy! I am gonna DDT you!!"

All before 9 am.

I was very happy to have them home, and easily abided all the ruckus in exchange for hugs and kisses, kisses and hugs.

Then Jax fell down the stairs.

All 14 hardwood of them. Sweet Mary Mother of Mylanta, my heart stopped as I did a little dance at the couch, trying to figure out what to do with Shawn's laptop while simultaneously climbing over the coffee table, unable to tear my eyes away from the tossing, tumbling toddler and the blood gushing from his head.

Shawn and I reached him at exactly the same time, quickly examining his injuries, feeling for knots (2) cuts (1) and bruises (several). Trying to judge whether or not it was ER-qualified, we were abruptly aided in our decision when Jax started demanding, "EatEatEat".

The kid was fine.

It only took me about 2 more hours to recover from that coronary before we piled into the truck to take Ninny's b-day and V-day gifts to her at work, where apparently she was the only one NOT at the bank, for it took us 30 minutes to park, 20 minutes to back out, and 15 more to exit the parking lot. Shawn was not happy. When Shawn's not happy? I'm pissed (unless his unhappiness was my intention, at which point, I would be doing my victory dance in a dark corner very quietly, lest he hear me and attack).

That fight took us into the 2 'o-clock hour, when we opted to take Ry to her acting class early ("since she was so late to her last one, Amy" -- passive-aggressive fighting at its best). Half an hour is a long time to kill in a truck, so Shawn got the kids out to play at the nearby park, when as Murphy's Rule does dictate, Ryan was suddenly overcome with the urge to pee. No open restroom, so he walked her around the corner of the club house and took less than 30 seconds before he, Ryan, and a gaggle of geese came runnin' back towards the truck. Shawn wearing a frown, Ryan with her pants still down, and the geese going crazy. I'm still not sure what exactly went on back there, but I do know Ryan was covered in piss and it apparently had nothing at all to do with the geese -- they were some Happy Gilmore-esque side note.

We didn't make it to acting today, but we did get back to normal and that is worth more than the $50 a month we pay for someone else to teach Ry what I am legally certified to teach her and hundreds of other children myself.

Once again, it all comes down to PRIORITIES.