Welcome, Summer...

Our niece graduated from eighth grade today.  The entire morning and during her graduation, it was thunderstorming.  I'm talking loud thunder, lots of lightning, and pouring rain.

It's not easy transporting a toddler and a baby into a church for a graduation while your husband tries to keep you all dry with a huge golf umbrella.

Our niece is my niece by marriage.  She is my husband's goddaughter.  I've known her since she was about 5.  I've only been her aunt since 2007.  But I feel like her aunt, and I was proud to watch her graduate today.   As  a matter of fact, I am so proud to be her aunt, I did something I've never done before for her party.

I made something that was sort of creative.  I made graduation cap reese cup things.  Ignore the breast pump accessories.

She loved them.  They weren't the neatest or most uniform things, but I'm told they were good and they all got eaten.  So I'm proud.

PJ spent the party being rambunctious and crazy.  Jumping in the bouncy house, playing basketball, running around, dancing.  Unfortunately because the ground was so wet, Miss Maggie couldn't play in the grass, so she was confined to someone's arms for the majority of the party.

Sidenote:  does everyone else's husband just assume that at family parties you'll just take care of the kids and he can go off and do whatever the hell he wants?  You know, maybe I want to play bean bags.  Maybe I want to eat my meal without a child climbing on me, or without getting up to chase one of them.  Oh well.

I shouldn't complain to much.  My husband's family is big and great and loves our kids, and I can usually count on them to watch the kids for a few minutes if need be.

Usually.

At one point, PJ went out the front door onto the porch.  I went to find him and saw one of John's cousins had him.  I asked her if she could keep an eye on him for a few minutes and she said sure.  I went in and changed Maggie's diaper.

I came back and he was no longer on the porch.  I asked where he was and she said he's in the grass.  I looked and didn't see him.  Then someone said, "Oh he's over there."

Running. Down the block.  Into the street.

I screamed his name.  But being 2, he thinks getting chased is a game, so he kept running.  Other people started calling him.  My heart felt like it was falling out of me. 

I'm running, with Maggie. Someone who was standing by a car grabbed him before he got too far into the street.  I grabbed his hand and we walked towards the house.  John came up to me.  Asked if I needed help.  If I was okay.

I could barely think.  "No.  I'm fine.  Go."

If you can't keep an eye on my kid for 3 minutes, don't say you will.   I'll figure it out.

We went back into the house and I got both kids to play in their cousin's (who is 4 months older than PJ) room.  John came in.

"Are you okay babe?"

"No.  I'm not.  I'm not okay that you just assume I'll watch the kids, I'm not okay that you get exasperated when I ask you to, and I'm not okay with the fact that Patty just let PJ run down the block into the street."

My eyes then overflowed. 

"Just go."

The best part is that Patty has a son of her own.  Granted, he's nearly 10. But still.

One good thing that comes of this? My husband is being very nice to me.

I decided to take the kids home, since I knew they were exhausted.  Cue the John being super nice to me.  Helped me load them into the car, etc.

PJ was alseep before I turned off the street.

He slept while I took off his shoes, and pants.  I kissed him good night and put him to bed.

Maggie ate and then fell asleep.  Was in the exact same position I put her in when I checked on her.

I got to take a 15 minute shower. 

Watch Man v. Food.

And blog.

Happy Memorial Day.

Welcome Summer.

And Congratulations Alyssa.