Labor Day weekend...the end of summer. Sigh.
Punky and I went home Thursday night. Friday we shopped. Saturday we visited with friends and family. Sunday was the annual corn roast at my uncle's farm. And today we made the long drive back to reality with nothing but autumn on the horizon.
The weekend was nice but every year it makes me sad. I hate to see the summer end. This year it feels like we hardly had one. Between Punky's dad working such crazy hours, me coping with a new job, and no real vacation to speak of...the summer seemed to pass in the blink of an eye and we haven't got much to show for it.
Okay, so we had some fun...I guess I'm just a bit cranky. I'm tired. And hormonal. And dreading the work day tomorrow. So, before this turns into a total piss and moan post, let's just change the subject.
On Friday I took Punky shoe shopping. I wanted her to wear sneakers to the corn roast on Sunday, but I had a feeling her current pair was getting a bit too small. She wore sandals most of the summer and I had a hard time when I tried to put her sneakers on last week. Turns out her feet are now measuring about size five and a half; her old sneakers are a five. It explains why I had to stuff her feet in them. And why she wanted them off five minutes later.
Anyway, she now has two new size six pairs of sneakers. One pink, sparkly, light-up, girly girl pair...and one practical, white, normal pair. She'll be out of both of them by Christmas, I'm sure. The only thing worse than how quickly she outgrows shoes is how much they cost to begin with...almost thiry-three dollars for two teeny, tiny, pairs of sneakers that will be too small for her feet before they even look a tad bit worn.
Punky and my nephew played rather nicely this weekend...with only one minor incident. We're not really sure what happened. They were in his room and suddenly we heard a loud bang. The sound all moms recognize: head meets floor. She was crying and screaming and all he kept saying was, "I didn't do it." About fifteen minutes later, he told her he was sorry. So, yeah, he obviously did it...but we don't know exactly what it was. She must've forgiven him because the next day they were buddies again. Then again, he could've done whatever he did because she smacked him. Her meter's been getting stuck on less-than-angelic rather frequently these days.
The corn roast on Sunday was about the same as other years. Tons of great food and lots of small talk with family. The highlight for me was getting a picture of Punky playing my uncle's drums. My mom has a picture of me playing his drums when I was roughly the same age that Punky is now. I thought it would be cute to have one of Punky doing the same.
She absolutely loved it. Drums. Real drums. She spent the summer beating on everything in the yard with any stick she could find. From the lawn chairs, to her toys, to the gas grill, and even the cars if she could sneak a tap in before we stopped her. My little drummer girl. She was in her glory with a real drum set and she quickly caught on to the various noises it produced. She went from one drum to another, hitting a cymbal in between from time to time, and smiling for all she was worth. Again, a reminder in case anyone forgot or dismissed the previous warning: if anyone is crazy enough to even consider buying her a drum set, keep in mind it will stay at your house for use when she visits. Mama's not budging on that one. Period.
Punky missed her nap on Sunday because of the corn roast. Later that night, she was a bear. She dozed off in the car on the short ride home, but I woke her because it was too early for her to go to bed for the night. I was afraid she'd be up at four a.m. Yeah, big mistake.
I should've just let her sleep, and gotten some myself. Instead, we did the nightime routine and then fought with her until close to midnight to get her to sleep. She was over tired...and completely freakin' miserable. She didn't want to play, she didn't want to sleep, she didn't want to do anything but cry, and whine, and moan, and groan, and carry on so bad that I actually had to walk away from her a few times and count to ten. It was bad, really bad. Another confirmation that she is definitely not ready to skip naptime. In hindsight, I should've let her nap before going to the corn roast, even though it would've meant arriving later in the day. Apparently, I'm a slow learner.
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