I want to ask this question: how many people have to die senselessly before we enact laws to protect us all– not from those responsible gun owners, but from monsters like this? When will we stop screaming “guns don’t kill people, people kill people” and notice that, in other countries where gun control is stricter, these acts are not prevalent? At what point is a “crazy drifter-” which is EXACTLY how I just heard the latest mass murdering gunman described on the news– not going to be given access to weapons with which he can kill many people in the blink of an eye? When will we make that correlation? When will the knee-jerk reaction stop and common sense kick in?
This breaks my heart. We need change. We need more structure. We. Need. Stronger. Gun. Laws.
Things I love about the teenage boys I drive to and from lacrosse:
- their passionate, ongoing discussion of lacrosse gear
- their jokes- some of which I am somehow not supposed to hear or understand, despite being a sentient being 3 feet away
- their crazy shorts
- their offhand, polite “Thanks, Mrs. D,” as they load out of the car and lope toward the field
Things I do not love about the teenage boys I drive to and from lacrosse:
- that wall of sweaty funk that hits you in the face, about 10 seconds after they get back into the car. Oh my God.
I woke up the J this morning for swimming lessons. She rolled over, yawned and stretched, opened her eyes and saw me. “Oh, good morning, Mommy! I’m happy to see you!” she said, and held out her arms for a hug.
Guinness, after his triumphant and rather traumatizing capture of a baby rabbit in our yard last week, has had another win in his incessant guarding of our yard against all tiny animals evil invaders. Behold the text conversation I had with Gabby last night:
JULIE: See you in a few kiddo. Love you.
GABBY: KK [Here she texted a million hearts and smilies, because she’s 11]
GABBY: Oh btw guinness caught a full grown finch
Got that? Guinness freaking snatched a bird out of the air. When I got home, the kids were all in a thrilled panic– scrambling to tell me how amazing/ horrifying it was, and describing in detail every millisecond of the Animal Planet-style attack they had witnessed, and telling me how the dog pranced around the yard afterward like a gladiator, bird in mouth.
My knee is bothering me after a tough workout yesterday, so instead of running I took Guinness for a long walk early this morning. Watching him strut down the sidewalk, looking confidently around him, challenging all comers, I remembered the frightened, stressed-out dog we adopted almost three years ago, and how I used to have to pick him up and carry him home when too many leaves blew across his path. Now that little guy thinks the neighborhood is his to command. Which is great– just, you know, maybe a little less Wild Kingdom around here might be nice too.
- First of all, if you get bored reading this, you can head over to Goop, where my favorite dried cornstalk Gwyneth Paltrow is teaching us all the proper way to yawn. I love her so so much.
- We threw a surprise retirement party for my mom on Sunday. It was so gratifying to see how many people came to thank her for everything she’s done. Plus, five Irish-Italian siblings kept it a secret from her for months, which is actually amazing.
- Remember how I lost my Fitbit in Virginia? And I’ve been all despondent ever since? Well, thank God, Dave got tired of me musing whether any of my steps actually counted anymore, and got me a new one. It’s embarrassing, how attached I am to this thing.
- Did I tell you that Cammy was pulled up to JV for a tournament over the weekend? Did I tell you that he performed exactly the function the coaches needed from him (provide a pair of fresh midfielder legs to advance the play) and was just rock-solid? Also I might have a tiny amount of bias.
- Addie J is really sensitive to mosquito bites, and she is just covered in them right now. She’s taken Benadryl and we’ve used cortisone cream on the bites themselves. We tried mashed peppermint leaves, mashed basil leaves, and vinegar– two of those didn’t work and one left a burn on her skin. Any other ideas?
- My brother-in-law texted me yesterday, looking for free dates for his son’s birthday party. Because I was in the middle of a viewing of Magic Mike XXL (review: so good! It was about friendship and supporting each other’s dreams, and celebrating women instead of objectifying them. Also, Channing Tatum dance moves), I was unavailable to respond until later– when I realized it is the middle of July and then promptly panicked, because oh my God now I have to do stuff for the fall and I’m not finished ignoring my summer to-do list yet!!!!!
- Today, a very Happy Birthday goes out to my wonderful mother-in-law, Kathy. Thank you for everything you do for the kids, and for us, and for me. I hope your kitchen renovation magically completes itself today, while you’re at work. Love you!!!!!
I have heard that rabbits can scream. It is, excruciatingly, true.
In other, possibly related news: Guinness can run much faster than I have ever anticipated.
(Happy ending: Cammy and I did save the rabbit, although it wasn’t uninjured…..)
To quote Gabby, who is the one who actually found this thing: “MOM!!!!! KILL IT WITH FIRE!!!!!”
As you know, confidence has never been an issue with Gabby. As you also know, although she’s a beautiful girl, she doesn’t really care. As long as she’s clean, she’s just not terribly invested in any concept of herself as a pretty girl. Case in point: yesterday Gabby asked me, “Are my eyes hazel or green?” I said, “They’re sort of both. Your eyes are like, the color of….” and as I tried to think of something that matched her eyes, Gabby came back with, “I know! They’re the color of pickle poops.”
That’s my girl.
Happy Fourth!!! Here’s your annual reminder to avoid blowing off your own hands, and leave the fireworks to the professionals. (Unless you have snap pops, in which case I will be right over.)
Gabby’s ginger daddy.
Gabby has begun referring to Dave as “Dad, my little ginger.”
I find this much more hilarious than it probably is.
The kids and I don’t spend a lot of time at shopping malls. It’s just not our jam… however we met a friend of mine at a Panera this morning near a lovely outdoor promenade, so we did some shopping. I bet that–
Story interrupted to tell you that, just as I typed that last sentence, Addie J swatted my back with a flyswatter, using all her strength. She then said to me, “Um, there was a fly there.” She has no idea how lucky she is to be alive.
–I bet that, if I tell you what the purchased items were, you’ll know exactly which kid got what:
Kid A: pajamas, sunglasses, and books about dogs
Kid B: Xbox 360 games
Kid C: a pair of workout tanks
Addie just said to Gabby, “Watch out, because there’s a fly. I tried to swap it– but I swapped Mom’s back really hard. It left a HUGE mark. Don’t tell her.”
This conversation took place ten feet from me.