The Last Three Weeks

The last three weeks have been a blur of activity and change. The lack of entries is never related to not having anything to write about -- oh, there is sooo much to write about -- but simply a reflection of how busy we've been. And that perhaps I've taken an afternoon nap here and there...

So let's get to it. In the last three weeks, we have seen...

more silliness between Scotty and my mom.

GiggleBear with Grandma

I mean, what am I going to do with these two? Just a smattering of crazy hijinks between Grandma and the Bear: removing arms from store mannequins, walking through downtown Vegas in just their underwear (okay, that was just Scotty), and vigorously shaking pine cones from trees. Scotty can't walk by a sewer without throwing a rock in it and I have my mom to thank for that.

Sadly, my mom's time in Vegas came to a close last weekend and we tearfully said goodbye to her and Zigmund. They made it home safely and Scotty and I are already looking forward to our Indiana trip in June. I hope the sewers are ready for us.

This whole time, everyone has wondered how Scotty would handle Zigmund's departure...I'm happy to say, he's doing fine. Me, on the other hand...not so much. I'm kind of a mess. The house feels so quiet without him. What can I say? The little furball grew on me. I guess we'll always have CatGate.

Easter came and went.

Curious Bear and Dad

For the third year in a row, I forced the family to dye Easter eggs. For the first time ever, though, I think Brian actually enjoyed himself. Scotty is at such a great age where he "gets it" but is still so curious and full of questions. Watching the little color tablets dissolve in vinegar was a big highlight, and then the eggs absorb the color?

Mind blowing for a three-year old.

Summer arrived in Vegas. And it stopped the kids dead in their tracks.

The water. Is. ON!

Impending summer in the desert means only one thing: lots of time at various water parks and pools. Which means I just involuntarily sucked my stomach in. But this year, I resolved to not hide under a cover-up so I made boot camp and clean eating a priority. As in, a real priority, not just a priority Monday through Friday. (weekends are so tough...) After six weeks, I'm down almost 8 pounds, but most importantly, I'm gaining muscle. I feel strong, energetic, and lean. It's a good feeling.

Scrambled eggs with lemon pepper, half of an avocado, a Cutie, and coffee with almond milk. Delish!

I feel like a special thanks is in order to the clementine farmers of America. Anytime I had a sweet craving, I ate a Cutie. Consequently, I'm downing 20-30 Cuties a week. I can even peel one while driving.

In one fell swoop, I managed to offend both the snake-haters AND the snake-lovers in the world by posting this picture on Facebook:

He's in a better place. Really.

In what I am dubbing "SnakeGate" (naturally), our gardener (not Victor, but someone I hadn't met before) found this little guy while trimming the shrubs in the back. The UnNamed Gardener presented the red racer to me as though it was some kind of gift or sacrificial offering and laid it on our driveway with great authority and importance. After choking my lunch back down, I started snapping pictures for identification purposes, because quite honestly, if he was poisonous, we were moving to Antarctica, stat. And when the snake had some kind of post-mortem seizure on the driveway, my first thought (shamefully) was, "OMG it's a ZOMBIE SNAKE! WE ARE ALL INFECTED!"

Brian and I have been watching a little too much The Walking Dead.

And if you are curious, I did not stab it in the head. I screamed and clutched my chest like I was dying. Once again, despite all the bravado, my potential usefulness in the zombie apocalypse needs to be re-evaluated.

Scotty, however, loved the snake. He promptly named him "Pawn" and insisted we take the snake around the house to "show him the flowers." (In Scotty's defense, the thing was dead AND in a bag by the time he met him. There was no involuntary zombie-like behavior from the red racer that would have sent him into therapy immediately). Pawn spent several days in our garage, safely dead in the bag, and then we had a touching little ceremony that involved putting him in the garage can and tightly closing the lid.

Rest in peace, little racer.

All of this talk of cold-blooded animals spurred a new game Scotty likes to call "Lizards."

Every three minutes, I hear, "Mom! You wanna play lizards with me?" It's great.

The game, which involves two fake lizards, consists of a "Mommy" lizard and a "baby" lizard. Scotty manipulates them into all kinds of different situations and I just follow his orders. These lizards have a tough life - they are constantly going to the hospital, in need of medical care, or requiring rescue from any number of emergency vehicles. I hope they have good insurance.

I finally found out what is wrong with my back. I've been having lower back pain for five months now, and it turns out I have a degenerative disk between my L4 and L5 vertebrae. According to my doctor, this is "as common as grey hair and wrinkles." FYI orthopaedic doctors everywhere: this is not what you say to a women who's 35th birthday is looming on the horizon. Regardless, I walked out with a script for an anti-inflammatory, 4 weeks of physical therapy, and this incredibly helpful pamphlet full of pictures of overweight, elderly folks engaging in "light exercise" to help their spines.

::head desk::

And finally, Brian has been in trial all week which makes life just a bit more stressful for the whole household. He finished up yesterday and we (well, they) celebrated with cheesecake on the ottoman while watching "Peter Rabbit."

Oh, to be three.

Happy Friday, everyone!