Blogworthy

Now that I am entrenched in Blogville, and my family has been bribed cajoled into reading the inane, mundane, sometimes profane things that go on behind the scenes here at the HomeFront Corp, a curious thing happens when we all get together. This scene plays out at least once:

Me: my big mouth open, as usual, watching and making a snarky comment on
some funny/endearing/embarrassing/appalling familial shenanigans

Family Member: (eyes alight) "So is this going on the blog?"

I'm not sure if they want it to go on the blog, or if they are checking to see if they need to prepare some kind of alibi. Maybe they just want to see how much of the real event is recognizable after my colorful re-telling, I don't know. What I do know, is that most things in my life are fair game for the blog, so get those alibis ready, people. (But good news: I always give you an alias, so maybe that will give you a head start for your life on the lam.)

This whole weekend was blogworthy. First of all, the weather was gorgeous. It's amazing what a break in the humidity will do for a girl's disposition. The sun was shining, cool breezes were blowing, bugs were occupied enough with their own business to leave me alone - perfection!
On Saturday, we drove up to New York for my nephew's birthday, and nothing beats playing with cousins and eating your body weight in tortilla chips and cake, at least in my kids' book. Wee Man, who actually turns four tomorrow, Older Girl, and The Boy had a great time playing Land of the Lost in the wading pool and sand box. Many dinosaurs met their demise in the sand pits, only to be resurrected by dogged excavation. All that playing left the adults to do what they do best: talk about the kids, and eat their body weights in cake and tortilla chips (apples don't fall far from the tree in this orchard). We ate too much, talked with our mouths full, and stayed too late, but it was worth it.

On Sunday, the children (with credit for the assist going to Rob) brought me a bagel in bed. I'm not a big fan of eating in bed, but how could I resist the four limpid pools of blue and green, rimmed with dark lashes, that so lovingly presented me with my tray? It would take a heart three sizes too small, so I smiled, and kissed, and ate in my bed.

But the pampering did not end there, my friends. My brother and his girlfriend, and his girlfriend's sister, came over to my house and cooked a gourmet Mother's Day meal. My parents, my other brother, and my brother's girlfriends' parents joined us, so it was a full house, and the only thing I did was make coffee.

They pulled out all the stops for this party, because they live by our family motto: Go Big or Go Home. We ate shrimp cocktail, potato leek soup, filet mignon, and chocolate-covered strawberries. They even chilled our salad plates and forks! They brought all of their own cookware, printed out menus, cooked everything from scratch, and cleaned everything before they left. I came down this morning to find the kitchen cleaner than when they arrived, with little plates of extra dessert all wrapped up on the counter. Talk about livin' the dream.

Now they have a big problem on their hands, because once you've seen how the personal chef set live, it's mighty hard to go back. I need to be kept in the lifestyle to which I've become accustomed, and Rob wants to know what's on tap for Father's Day. That only gives them about a month to prepare, so, if you two are reading, you might want to jump on that. Plus, you can motivate yourself with the knowledge that you'll make it to the blog once again.