Our fourth was weird, it was completely quiet and normal. Confused? Let me explain.
Throughout the course of my life, I have maybe had 3 un-eventful fourth of July's, let me hit the best of the worst. There was the fourth of July that my IRL BFF and I decided to go kayaking in the ocean and after taking 5 steps into the deep dark blue, the kayak was dropped on her big toe subsequently ripping the nail off of the nail bed in salt water, I'm sorry IN SALT WATER.... she nearly passed out from the pain. Then there was the fourth of July that we spent in Santa Barbara and watched my dad carry a watermelon, for what seemed like 10 miles to our designated picnic spot, and peed my pants when he accidentally tripped and dropped it. Nothing like physical comedy. Sometimes it's bad, sometimes it's funny -point being, it's never dull.
Though we were expecting to have "the girls" with us and we all know how that went to hell in a hand basket we were still "committed" to family functions. DAM....I won't lie and say it was a breeze to see all of the kids playing in the pool at my mom's house, it's always nice to see family -but oh how we got the questions... Where are the girls?What will be your next step? When will the girls be leaving? How is the lice situation?....sometimes I miss living far away from my immediate family.
After my mom's party, we had a nice dinner with D's parents who are staying across the street from our house with their good buddies. They take turns, between our house and the neighbors when they come for a visit and it works out nicely for all parties involve, especially *this* party. I have to say my MIL, has come a long way and has made dramatic improvement at maintaining our privacy. I think it helps that she is in her own home now and that I have most of the IF drugs out of my system. She called me on Thursday while the shi- shi was hitting the fan at work to ask where an apron was and if I would mind if she cleaned the kitchen. Uh, apron is in the top right drawer next to the fridge and HELL YA!!!!! Clean away...... I get kind of creeped out when she cooks in my kitchen because it used to be her kitchen (we bought the home from my- in laws when they retired) and it's just weird. My kitchen is the part of my soul that lives on the outside of me, it is my refuge, it is my sanctuary, it is where I praise the God that is Anthony Bourdain and ask him to watch over me as I stir every pot on my stove. You get it, right? Having someone cook in my kitchen is awkward to me it's like asking to borrow my underwear. I'll let you do it in a complete emergency, but really - please don't ask.
I digressed a bit, back to the fourth and the holiday from hell. Yesterday went well, in retrospect. The oddest thing, and God knows I've lowered the bar for these people already to an inch above the ground but the crap that comes out of the Birth parents mouths is just absurdity at it's best. It's puts the pain of IF treatments in a whole new light. At 9:30 PM we are packing the girls in the car, they are starving (of course) and I made some PB & J's for them to munch on. The birth parent -dad- idiot of the world says to me, you know they really like Flaming Hot Funyuns. I was just looking at him like - Dude, shut the hell up. You do not feed flaming hot funyuns to young children and especially not before they are going to bed. After I buckle little girl in birth dad shoves a grocery bag at me with the SUPERSIZED bag of flaming hot funyuns and tells me that he wants the girls to eat these during the week. While I was 3 sentences into why our snack of choice are the whole grain goldfish I realized they probably have never read a food label and don't know how. I took the bag, I was tired and once we got home I asked the girls which they prefer and confirmed it this morning. The bag is still sitting on the counter, I'm not sure what to do with it but really - funyon breath isn't rank enough, you have to add chili powder and really kill people with your flaming hot funyon breath. Birth mom was trying to tell me something that presently escapes me and as she spoke I thought, "Wow, she actually looks nice". I knew Big Girl was listening which is probably the main reason behind my action but I did something I thought I would never do. I look birth mom straight in the face and said " You look really pretty tonight, that dress is very flattering."
Today, they brought warm potato salad (with mayo in it) blue jello and bananas. One out of three isn't too bad, I guess.
I think the heat is affecting my brain...