This past weekend was an example of just that. I had the 40th AU Singers reunion in Auburn. Not my 40th, but the program's. I'm not that old quite yet. We had over 200 former Singers come back for a few days of singing, dancing and memories. Guess who had bronchitis/whooping cough/the plague and couldn't sing? I was the first person to register and pay my money (prepared) for goodness sakes! And I cried the whole time I was there because I couldn't sing (unprepared) and was the first to leave (unprepared). See a pattern here? It was an emotional weekend for several reasons, not the least of which was hearing Dr. Smith effortlessly produce the most beautiful sound out of a room full of people, most of whom had never seen the piece of music put in front of them. It's impossible to explain the power you feel when that happens. I was blessed enough to get to experience it for three years while I was at Auburn. I will never get that back, and that makes me sad. I also miss my friends...these were the people who truly helped my break free and come out of my shell at a time when I was very concerned about what other folks thought about me. My confidence was born in AU Singers and I'll always be grateful for that. Parrish met me after I'd joined the group and I always say he never would've dated the Katie pre-Singers...she was just too meek and too much of a follower to attract a strong man like Captain Campus himself! Or Perfect Parrish, as I like to call him now since we aren't on campus anymore, but he still is pretty much still a captain in his own mind.
Kala, new mommy to 5-week-old Carter, Mer, best Singers friend, Katie, who uncharacteristically ordered hot tea at the bar. Yes, I was really that sick.
Molly, Mer, Katie, Kala and Whit.
Mer, Kala, Whit, Philip, Molly, Ryan, Kevin, Will, Anna, Katie, Erika and Hillary.
Anyway, it was amazing and I will try to upload some of the vocals I recorded. I thought they'd make a great way to expose the munchkin to real music. Now, I know I'm being sentimental and that's boring. So my best story from the weekend goes like this: sweet Anne Marie approaches me and my friend Meredith and proceeds to tell Mer how much she thinks about her and how Mer helped changed Anne Marie's life. Mer and I exchange glances, expecting her to talk about world peace or at least a minor life choice. When prompted by our confused expressions, Anne Marie volunteers the "life change"...her boob job! Inspired after Mer treated herself to the surgery our sophomore year. How touching and simply wonderful...for me this was party fodder for the entire weekend. I will never forget that moment and consider it the best of the trip, which is saying a lot since I laughed more in those two days than I have in a year. Priceless.
The munchkin had a fine time at home with Daddy, attending Nanie's ladies birthday tea, going fishing and eating pork rinds, or chicharrones, as she likes to call them. Who feeds their kid fried pork skin? Shouldn't that be an adult decision? Call me crazy but I consider that borderline child abuse. Luckily I got back in time and got her back on her steady, healthy diet of Dora fruit snacks and Pediasure. What?
As I said before, I was horribly sick last week and still kind of am. Sylvie came down with her first ear infection (at two and a half I think that's pretty good), a result of her swimming lessons. I swear I can't win for losing. She can rescue herself if she falls in a pool but she'll get sick while trying. Sheesh. Anyway, we all have shared a lovely virus, including Parrish who never gets sick. His staff was begging me to make him go home, but all he'd agree to was a flu swab at the pediatrician's office next door. He was negative and stayed work, albeit with no voice and a light sheen of sweat all over his feverish body. I've never seen a bigger baby in my life. And PS, he was sneaking antibiotics and 600 mg ibuprofen because "he needed to get well quickly." Since I do have time to be sick, by the way. I have never met a stingier doctor in all my life. I think it's borderline spousal abuse not to share the good stuff. I think I'm seeing another pattern here. Hmmmm...
Two funny poop stories, because who doesn't like a good poop story? Sylvie has potty trained quite well and I'm so pleased at how relatively easy it was. She announces when she has to go, gets a good book and takes her seat on the princess potty. She then announces when she's actually going with a loud, "I'm POOOOPIN'!!" followed by a, "Yaaaaayyy!" Awesome. The other day she was asking about Parrish while on the potty and actually said, no lie, "Where's poo poo? I mean, where's Daddy?" I sometimes feel like the former is pretty fitting. Only on the same days that he doles out pork rinds and won't share his drugs. Other than that he's pretty perfect and not poo poo at all.
My last funny story for tonight: at bedtime tonight I quietly asked Parrish to have a sippy cup ready with water because I knew the munchkin would ask for it as soon as she laid down. I just did sign language for drinking because I didn't want to give her any ideas. When she inevitably asked for water, I went into the kitchen and found a sippy cup next to a cold beer. I administered the water, exited the nursery and promptly asked who the beer was for. Parrish said, "I thought you meant water for Sylvie, but I also thought you might have needed a beer, so I got both ready, just in case." This man knows me FAR too well.
Good night and God Bless,
Katie
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