We kind of pissed the day away yesterday, and didn't really even leave the house until about 5:30--Andrew and James went outside so Andrew could ride his "lawnmower," and he played in the sandbox some as well. I checked on the garden, which is holding its own--we actually have tomatoes growing, finally, and more cukes, squash, and peppers---Oh! And the world's smallest watermelon, which is very cute! I planted cantaloupes and watermelons kind of as a fluke, and only one of the watermelon plants has survived. The vine has one tiny, grape-sized watermelon on it; I'm not sure if it will have enough growing time, but it's cute nonetheless. We have already determined we need a less shady spot for next year's crop--and something away from the stupid walnut trees that we think have poisoned some of the tomato plants.
Anyway, I was very excited that five of my tomato plants have survived and are doing something--until I went to peek in the neighbors' garden. Before I'm accused of trespassing, I did have permission to be there--they're away on vacation and told me to help myself to anything that was ready while they were gone. I hadn't even looked until yesterday, because I felt really strange even being in their yard (we're NOT close), but I tiptoed over there, feeling like a thief, but hoping there was something I could nab from their garden. There wasn't--but they have a billion tomatoes! Their plants are ALL healthy, and every single one of them has about 12 gigantic green tomatoes on it---unlike my puny, sickly, wilting plants. It was sickening, and even more so because none of them were ripe for the stealing. Uggh.
Today was a different story. I was so pissed off after wasting the day yesterday, when summer is quickly slipping by, AND I was mad because I kept thinking, "I should be waiting in line for Rick right now," and "Oh, the show's probably starting right now--wonder what he's singing?" Torture. So, I was determined not to waste today. Andrew slept late--9:00 is such a gift when his usual M.O. is about 7:00! We had some scrambled eggs, then packed up and went to the grandparents' to swim. We were in the pool by 11:30 or so, took a break for a PB & J sandwich around 1:30, and then I tried to get A to take a nap, which he was having none of. He "rested" for about an hour and a half while I tried to relax in the sun (all the while listening to him bellow from Grandpop's couch, "Hey, do you know where Bob is?" (Bob is the cat--Andrew wanted him to sleep with him.) So, 3:30 rolls around, Andrew's back in the pool---swimming like a champ, which is how this whole post got started. He's really getting the feel for it, and has figured out how to compensate when his little life jacket starts to tip him sideways or something. So, I'm baffled about where my little baby went--he's swimming like a big kid, gets out of the pool by himself to go off the deck to pee in the grass, all by himself, mind you, skips his nap, and did I mention that he moved himself to the double bed in his room the other day? No more toddler bed for him--he'd had enough. Bittersweet is definitely the word here, even if it is cliche. Here's a picture of my grown-up son swimming, no help at all from me, in the pool today.
James came out after work and joined us, along with Anna, Dad, and Edna. We all had hoagies together on the deck as evening approached, then the little guy got back in for a swim with Grandpop and Daddy. That whole "wait a half hour after eating" thing WAS an old wives' tale, right? Andrew was practically a zombie by this point, after the strenuous activity and no nap, so we packed up the cars and headed home. He was asleep practically before James was out of the driveway. Thank goodness for the brief glimpses of "baby" he still gives every now and then--cold turkey would be too painful. ---T