You can tell everybody, this is your blog...

The blogisphere is full of some of the coolest people on the planet. And a couple of them have sent me some emails lately asking for a little more information about my "regular" life. I made attempts at this in emails back. Then I cam to the astounding conclusion (trumpet flare, please) that maybe this would be easier in a blog post. Duh.

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FRIDAY We have a standing babysitting arrangement with a neighbor (we have the best neighborhood in Chicagoland, I'm sure). While Bear was next door, I worked for about 5 hours (Half-day Friday). Then he came home and we had a nice nap. My friend (and Bear's Godmother) Dee came over and CorporateDaddy (CD) came home and we had takeout from Noodles and More. Afterwards, some more neighbors came over and we had an old-fashioned Amish pergola lowering. Never had one of those? It's when a wife (that's me) tells a husband (that's CD) that a 10-foot pergola would be just grand over the patio. CD said "Honey, let's make it 8 foot" but I would not be swayed. And thus, CD built a wooden airplane hangar in our backyard. The neighbors scratched their heads and said "Gee, that's tall. What's it supposed to be?" and I threw up my hands in despair. CD allowed as how, even with eleventy billion clemetis plants, ain't no way this thing would ever actually provide any shade over the patio. So he cut about 2 feet off each leg and with a huff and pull, the lot of us moved the thing off its pilons. CD made more adjustments and we moved the freshly cut legs into brackets. And suddenly, the neighbors all said... "hey! that's an arbor thingy! for shade! Looks swell, man". Me? I just got funny looks. After Dee left and Bear went to sleep, we caught up on the StarGates and canoodled.

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SATURDAY We did some housework and then loaded up in the van for our weekly chuckwagon of errands. The truth is, the 3 of us LIKE spending time together. Shhh now, don't ask me how we pulled that off. I have no clue, myself. There's a wheel of stuff that has to be done, and we do it in no particular order. "Roll the dice, Bear! Evens we go to the Library, Odds we hit the dry cleaners!" "Come on.... Evens!" We hit Trader Joes and overheard one of the shoppers talking about a carnival. So as we were leaving, we asked a cop, who radioed to dispatch, and got directions. It was a grand hour of yummy fair food and little rides for Bear. After our nap (wait, have you caught on to our sleep addiction yet?) I gussied up for my date with Dee. We headed off to Piper's Alley area in Chicago for a nice Italian dinner (Wine! Linens! Goat Cheese!) followed by that Zach Braff movie - which was actually quite good. Couldn't help but yelp "Queen Amidalah!" when Natalie Portman first appeared. Heh. I put his blog temporarily in my blogroll if you're interested.

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Sunday

CD was feeling sick, so I tucked him into bed and made a valiant attempt at doing some of the yardwork myself. Before you get the wrong idea, let's be perfectly clear - I am a tough chick. I weed and garden and sweep and help build retaining walls. But with Handy Andy for a husband, power tools generally are under his operation while I am cooking something up.

Look, I'm ALL about Free to Be You and Me and I get that I'm responsible for my own orgasm. The work delineations in our household didn't default to the traditional. It's on purpose. We do the things that suited our interests and strengths. And, honestly, when the occasion calls for it (like CD beings sick and this needing to get done before we go on vacation), we each will do whatever is needed.

That said, I wacked up half the damn yard trying to use the edger thingy. I left ruts that make it look like someone peeled out in a Camarro across our lawn.

It must have been really bad, because about 20 minutes into my desecration of CD's green oasis, I got a tap on my shoulder that made me jump 10 feet in the air. It was one of the Guys, our neighbors across the street, holding a contraption.

"Give me your power cord," he demanded with a roll of his eyes. I did as I was told. This thing made these gorgeous edges up and down the sidewalk and driveway in like, no time. 10 minutes, tops. Other Guy, his partner, crossed the street with a bemused smile.

"This is the hardest I've seen him work in 10 years," he confided in me as the 3 of us (O.G., Bear, and me) watched Guy go to town with his contraption.

"I'm really grateful," I gushed.

"You know, you're gonna have to fill in those ruts you made and really pack it down before you reseed," O.G. told me. "Or else it will always dip down."

I nodded agreeably. Mental note: tell CD to stomp on dirt before reseeding. Got it.

Once CD was up and about and bemoaned my yard wacking and thanked the Guys and hung out with the neighbors talking about next weekend's block party (we're co-captains with the Guys for planning), he worked on the pergola for a couple of hours.

Then it was time to decide about dinner. Sunday Dinner is a Big Deal. It was growing up. It was living in England. And it is with my family now.

I've become experimental in past months, veering from the roast and Yorkshires habit. Yesterday, I'd bought some wonton skins and jasmine rice with plans for making an Asian meal (pot stickers, stir fry...) but CD broke the bad news: his softball game (the Last of the Season! Is it possible summer is fading so fast?) was moved up. Glove and bottle of water in hand, we waved him goodbye.

Bear and I eventually settled on ramen noodles and broth with veggies. Bear actually was feeling pretty poorly himself - a fever of about 101 - so I ended up giving him ice cream as the main course. Hey, like you've never done it. Sha.

We took a walk around the block and got some air. When we got back we terrorized a coven of local fireflies and interrupted a local game of football toss.

Missions successful, I swaddled Bear on the couch with a sippy cup and a blanky and Digimon reruns. Then it was usual Sunday night stuff: fresh sheets on the bed, a load of dishes, straightening up, talking on the phone, tucked Bear in with songs and stories, hit all the updated blogs in my blogroll, check my work email, and, finally, curled up watching "Cold Mountain" (good movie, btw). Waiting for CD to come home so we could go to sleep.

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Monday Morning

Found out I was a finalist in Jay's Blogging for Books. Peed my pants. Called everyone I know. Took a shower. Made Bear brush his teeth, too. Gave him chocolate for breakfast. Picked up his babysitter and let her deal with the post-sugar fallout. Cackled evilly. Checked Jay's site again. Boggled again. Actually started working, counting down the minutes until lunchtime -when I am "Officially" allowed to blog.

So, that's my average little life. It may not suit some, but it sure as hell suits me.

Thanks for the emails, and the comments.... I'm a slut for feedback. I love you, man.

Updated: The counter! It says 5010! I missed 5000?! I was going to get that person something from their wish list. Aww man. Well definitely for 6000. Definitely.