This past weekend was busy as all get out. We accomplished a lot.
Moved some more.
Went on a date.
Had to unpack the orange scarf and knee boots because it was 40 degrees in the evening.
Oh, and I learned how to shoot a gun.
B and I are still sorting through all of my crap, which actually doesn't amount to much. In fact, we found out by way of a logistics snafoo that ALL of my crap easily fits into his garage. Think about that. Furniture, beds, boxes, the lot of it... it all fit quite easily into his 2 car garage. I'm kind of proud of that!
I'll tell you where else it fits - into our tiny apartment on the THIRD floor. I'll tell you right now, my king size Tempurpedic did not make the move. She is firmly settled in Bryon's bedroom right now, and I have his full size marshmallow bed in mine. It works. Going to be jealous while he's sleeping under all the quilts, though.
I know I didn't do any posts on packing and moving this time around (focusing on too many things right now), but I can tell you that I tried to be smart when I packed up the house and labeled things in two ways: "B" for those items that didn't need to make the trip to our apartment and which could be unpacked at B's house, and "APT" for those items that were needed in our apartment and should be carried up 3 flights of stairs. I'm happy to report that only 5 things were taken to the apartment by accident (and had to be brought back to his place).
The boys didn't play football this weekend because H inadvertently gooed Trevor last weekend and passed on her Streptococcus bacteria. All was right with the world after a quick clinic visit on Saturday morning and some prescribed antibiotics. So far, the other troops aren't showing any symptoms and he is back to his chattery self.
This weekend, Mabel got into BIG trouble for saying "shit" 47 times in context. As in, she drops her spoon, looks down at the floor and says, "awww shit." This is not acceptable.
The shotgun part is coming, I swear.
On Saturday night we went out with another couple for some shenanigans at Shenanigans (oh my, yes I did just blog that phrase - - and now I'm eyerolling at myself). We had some great Italian and went bowling, too. The evening also almost included karaoke, but someone (not I) chickened out at the last minute. Whatevs.
Yesterday was the most relaxing day we've had in a while - if by relaxing you mean cleaning for about 6 hours. After fun with floors and tubs and windows, we sat and watched Percy Jackson and the Lightening Thief with the kiddos and planned some homemade tomato soup for dinner. It was lovely, just lovely.
And - yes. I shot a gun this weekend. It began as a way to allow B and his 4 best friends (AKA The Boys) to take my boys hunting this year. By state law Andy and Trev aren't old enough to hunt yet, but they can go through the safety course and practice (and there is no one better to teach than B and The Boys). They can also scare the pheasant up into the sky by just being themselves (ie: LOUD). Anyway, I told B that my two weren't allowed to fire a gun until I had. Just something I've always wanted to do. And for whatever reason the right moment presented itself this weekend. I held that .22, listened to Bryon teach me the same way his dad taught him as a young boy, looked through the scope, ...and then I fired.
Adrenaline like you wouldn't believe. I also hit my target on the first try. And then I hit it again 2" above the first mark. Booyah! Mess with me, I dare ya! HA. So... I don't plan on shooting any game (or cleaning it either for that matter), but I can now say I've fired a gun and done it well. I might go shooting with The Boys the next time they go, who knows. I am a midwest girl now, after all. Depends on if I can wear my heels in the weeds. Now if I could only learn how to drive (faster than 25 mph) on dirt roads...
And Dear B: Hands down, two favorite parts of the weekend: sitting nestled into your nook during the movie with the kiddos nearby and your arm around me, all calm and quiet-like. Just living. BEING US... and #2) cooking dinner beside you last night. You buttered bread for grilled cheese while I chopped the basil for the soup. You give, I take. I give, you take over. It's like a symphony, moving through life with you. I so love you as my upper note. And please, continue to plan whatever love is moving you to plan and do with respect to making me yours forever. I don't want to know until it's time to know. Shock my socks off, Rockstar. Love you forever.