Also, I don't need you in order to get up on the couch. You probably need to baby-proof your house a little bit more. It's just a suggestion.
I came, I saw, I conquered...the beach.
I have ingested pounds of seafood, spent hours in the water, and acquired quite a nasty sunburn. (I'm not proud of it.) We have had a wonderful time, and we definitely needed a quick beach vacation.
The problem? I miss Sam--I can't wait to suck on his fat little cheeks. I will probably trip Anthony in order to get to the kid first.
Hope the husband doesn't sustain major injuries, but I'm prepared to do whatever is necessary.
When encountering Sam for the first time, people usually respond with either,
"Oh, my God! He looks just like his father."
or
"Well, we know who his daddy is."
or
"He is his father made over."
If you need proof that I really did carry this child for 9 months, here it is.
Yep. That's right...those are books in his crib. Books that he now must have with him in order to fall asleep. I have to go in and take them out after he's taken his trip to the Land of Nod.
I couldn't be happier. Told you he's mine.
"Go away dog!" Of course, it sounds more like, "Goawyduh."
At least I know what he's saying.
And if you knew our dog Linus, you wouldn't be suprised that Sam uttered these words.
Uncle Sam sends his best post-holiday wishes to all of you.
Three words sum up the Sherman family's 4th of July weekend--busy, fun, and exhausting. We got our patriotism on with lots of family and friends. All in all, I think we did the 4th right.
Thursday night was spent at the home of our good friend's parents. They graciously entertained the lot of us with tons of food, good conversation, and plenty of spirits. We sat on their fabulous front porch and rocked the night away while enjoying each other's company. Sam toddled all over the place, ate Cheerios off the floor, and eventually fell asleep in my lap.
Friday was spent at our "annual" 5th of July fish fry. If you're thinking to yourself that Friday wasn't the 5th, don't worry--you're right. I'll explain. Last year our local crew couldn't all get together on the 4th, so we cooked out on the 5th. We all planned to bring side dishes and desserts, and the boys would be in charge of frying fish.
The problem?
No one knew how to fry fish.
You would think someone would know how considering that 30 lbs. of fish were bought. (15 lbs. were returned since we obviously overbought. I think we told the grocery store that it smelled funny. They didn't even check it. Now that I think of it, that kind of worries me a little...)
Anyway, after the comedy of errors that was the 5th of July Fish Fry, we decided it must be an annual event. The problem this year? No one could do it on the 5th. Hence, the 5th of July Fish Fry on the 3rd of July. This confusion pleased us immensely. We thrive on chaos.
Sam stayed with the grandparents that night so that Anthony and I could really enjoy all that the 5th (3rd) offered. You would have gotten a babysitter, too. 25 friends, an abundance of side dishes, 4 or 5 desserts, "beach punch," (O.J., pineapple juice, and a little vodka) AND a keg.
Yep, we're over 30.
No, we don't care.
By the end of the night, the living room was cleared of all furniture except a coffee table--which was used as a dancing platform--and Michael Jackson's tunes were kicking off what turned into a 3 hour long dancefest. [see below for demonstration]
Hot?
You bet.
Fun?
Absolutely.
On the actual holiday, we were moving a little slow. (Imagine that.) We loaded up and hit the road to spend the night with Anthony's grandmother. A ton of our Sherman relatives were in town, and Sam had a blast showing off for them.
There was no shortage of food, that's for sure. Sam indulged in his first meat pie and a little bit of baked kibby. I refuse to give that kid raw kibby. I'm not crazy.
