Wendy...I'm Home

[The above title is a reference to The Shining when Jack is smashing through the door with the axe. Is it sad I know that or sadder so that I thought of that when trying to give this post a title?]

So I've been gone for a while [well not really...I've been here....just not on the blog.] I know that many of you have been downtrodden and totally PO'd when you've come here to Step Away only to find the last, boring posts still hanging around. Admit it ~ some of you are HOOKED. [Most of you just want to see what craziness I'm preachin' about happening on Fulton Drive or you're one of my children's teachers and you need something to explain why the act they way they do in public...either way, you like it.] We've been super busy over here at the Short house with all kinds of ball - basketball, softball, goofball [reference to Craig] etc. We are some ball playing people at the Short house. [OK...I don't play softball or basketball. I could...if I really wanted to...OK, maybe not...] And Gabester the Babester and Flossie are going to play Tball this year. That should absolutely, 100% be an adventure. I can imagine these things might be heard on your local Tball diamond:

Emma: I broke a nail and my necklace is getting dirty....
Gabe: I hit the umpire because I wanted to!
Emma: Do you expect me to go after that ball? Ha! If it's not coming right to me then I ain't getting it.
Gabe: I don't want to throw it back - it's mine!
Emma: I'm sweaty and hot...I'm ready to go!
Gabe: Can I have a juice box? Can I have some cereal?

In other news, I'm still plugging away at the Y. To date, I've lifted a little over 200,000lbs. [That is roughly half of my previous record of 400,000lbs - of French fries that is!!] I'm kind of at a standstill though - I need something new to do. I'm thinking of trying Zumba but I'm not sure. [Actually, I am really worried that I'll be the first person kicked out of a class for being totally uncoordinated. You ever seen me dance? Heck, sometimes walking is a struggle. Last Thursday my go-go boot heel got hung on the myriad of cords near my computer in my room. Needless to say, some kid near the front had to have the Heimlich performed on him after swallowing his gum when he laughed hysterically at me tripping. 'Nuff said.] I mean really, do I want to be the laughing stock of the Y? Do I want them to "lock" the door upon my arrival? It's no fun being fat and uncoordinated. I am not fond of the elliptical [those aren't for the uncoordinated either] and the bicycle hurts my fanny. But I need to find something new...help!!!

Gabe has been up to his typical antics. This morning, butt straight in the air in the shower, he wanted to make sure he had enough water to make "butt prints" on the shower door. [I would like to be able to tell you he came up with this little antic himself but (no pun intended) you know my husband...'Nuff said.] Saturday, at the scrimmage, he was making snow angels in the dirt. He also kicked me in the shin. [There is a story behind this so stay with me please...] Several older students were watching KM play and one of them taught Gabe to kick a stranger if one ever asked him where he lived. [A. Gabe doesn't meet strangers. B. Sometimes he lives on Mars, in the toilet, at home, or in China depending on what mood he's in.] Well he thought it would be totally hilarious [as did the baffoons he was hanging with] if he tried his little trick on me:
Gabe: Mommy, ask me where I live?
Me: Gabe, where do you *&^%@#?>+~! [He just kicked me square in the shin] Why did you do that?
Gabe [Guffawing hysterically, along with his new found, older "friends"]: They told me to! [Pointing at said older "friends", who, by the way, are still horse laughing at the old, fat coach's wife now hobbling on one leg.]
Moral of this story: Don't ask Gabe where he lives...at least not when he's in striking distance.

The Diva's turning 7 this week so we're having a PARRRTTTAAYYY... a sleepover...a slumber party. [Or, as we moms like to call it, a what-in-the-H-was-I-thinking-when-I-invited-these-things-called-seven-year-olds-to-my-house-to-spend-the-night party] Should be fun for all involved and we might even get Molly to put on make-up. If you haven't heard from me by Sunday, please call someone [not the kids from above because they are mean...and they teach people to kick] and see if I'm still alive and kicking underneath all the pink feathers and tiaras.

All work and no play makes Missy a dull girl [I really should stop quoting The Shining]. Happy Monday! As always...life as a Short is good [even with huge bruise on my leg.]

I WANT SOME WAAATTTTEERRR!!!

My good friend Angela invited us to walk at the Gateway trail on Saturday. [Ok...my first two clues that this was not gonna work should have been "walk" and "trail"] Short and Moo had a scrimmage so I took Gabe, Emma, and Coop with me. The walk began wonderfully - what a gorgeous day to be there - and both Gabe and Emma were keeping up just fine. [Emma was even keeping pace with Angela, which ain't easy 'cause girl is F-A-S-T!!] We make it to the trail to go to the top when Emma began to lose speed [mind you, this is only about 5 minutes into the walk] and she began to huff and puff - LOUDLY. She tried to pull on Angela's shirt and get her to pull her up the trail [Emma ain't stupid] but I fussed at her so she stopped. We got to the top, talking all the way, and Emma began to lag further and further behind. "I can't do this anymore!" she told me [MORE THAN ONCE] and like every good mother I simply ignored her [MORE THAN ONCE]. "Walking is good for you - come on you can do this!" [I guess I forgot that she is the DIVA to beat all divas....what was I thinking dragging her to the Gateway and expecting her to walk? OMG!]

We circled around a few times and on one of our times we meet Coop, Austin, Marcus, and Gabe. Gabe decided that the rocks lining the trail looked much better right on the path so he was throwing large stones everywhere. [Yes, I got some "Control your kid" looks from some man on the path. He got over it. He's luck y Gabe didn't peg him with a stone....just sayin'...the boy's got good aim.] Here is where my obvious lack of sense went completely out the window - I decided that Gabe should make the loop with us!! [Clearly the top of the Gateway Trail is in extreme altitudes because my thought process was all messed up due to lack of oxygen to the brain.] We made it about 2 steps and then the party really began:
"I need some WAAAATTTTEEERRRRR!!"
"My wegs [Gabanese for legs] are HHHHUUUURRRTTINNNNGGGG!"
"I can't walk...hold me!!!!"
"BAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!"

We heard this [and I'm quite sure EVERYONE in KM did too] ALL THE WAY back to the car. [At this point, I was looking for a large boulder to 1. Hide under or 2. Hurl at myself]. We finally made it to the car [and with a screaming youngin' I think it took 5 hours or something like that...OK, like 10 minutes, but in my mind it was 5 agonizing hours.] We made it to the car and found the WWWWAAAATTTTTTEERRRRR for Gabe. Amazingly, he was ready to go walk again...what is up with that?

I am pretty sure when I rode by there today a new sign had been added:
"If you think your 4 year old will climb this trail without screaming you are sadly mistaken."