Just Like Yard Work. Except Not.

I can count the number of times that Mr. Husband and I have agreed on Saturday plans on one ha . . . actually, I don't need a hand. We don't ever wake up in full agreement of what needs to be done that day. We just don't. But, this past weekend, we were 100% united in our mission, fully ready to work together, looking forward to collaborating, and found this in the back yard:

 

That's an almost-pond surrounded by a mud pit. While our agreed-upon goal was to finish building a pond in the back yard, we kinda sorta were thinking we would add the water after we had finished digging it out, put a liner in, and maybe had set up the water fall. But, hey! At least now we know why our back yard frequently impersonates a swamp! That's some amazing drainage we have going on there.

Anyway.

Once we realized there Team Build-a-Pond was not going to be moving in to action, we decided to do something so exactly the same that really it's like a synonym or something. We went to a roller derby match.

Which, um, ZOMG! Roller derby!

There were girls kicking ass, some epic name-calling, a whole lot of sweat, a few calls to the EMTs, and that's just the stuff that would have happened in our back yard if we had gotten to work on that pond. See? Roller derby = yard work.

Beyond that, there was some fast-moving craziness that has me convinced that I need to make friends with every single member of Steel Hurtin'. Because they probably could all kick my ass. And then eat me for lunch. This extremely hawt and super-nice young woman especially could take me out:

(Looky! Looky! Looky who got to practice panning and kinda almost figured it out! </end camera dork moment>)

That's Snot Rocket. We're friends now, and stuff.

(Photo by @awander--That's @JMWander, Snot Rocket, me, and some random kid I picked up while I was David Conrad hunting during halftime.) (Could I do any more name-dropping? Hmm. Yes, I could. I ran into @ZPAwoman and her "magical" purse at one point and @ScareHouseScott was there, too. Who, btw, is training to be a spy in his next life. Proof.)

Despite the look on Alexis' face in that photo, she had A BLAST. The shenanigans ran about 30 minutes longer than would have been ideal for her schedule, but she still hung in there. She followed it up by spending about an hour this morning trying to convince me that we need to go watch Roller Derby again. Right. That. Second.

Alas, she will have to wait a month or so for the next match.

In the meantime, I plan to have sweet dreams about what the Steel Hurtin' could do to a few Disney Princesses in a roller derby match. Yes, indeed.

(Big thanks to Scott for the invite!)

When She Demands I Take a Picture of Us, I Take a Picture of Us

A Poopy Little Snippet

I have spent the past few days in Newark for a work thing, so my Alexis interactions have been limited to phone calls. Which, uh, WTH? Since when did my preshussss get to be big enough to carry on full conversations on the phone? And not just full conversations, but like Real Conversations. During one call she gave me the full play-by-play of her day at school, another was all about what she plans to do this weekend, and the third, while very short, was a work of sheer genius. It went like this:

Me: Hello.

Alexis: Poopy diaper! (Cackles like a mad woman.)

Me: What?

Alexis: Poopy diaper! (Again, cackles like a mad woman.)

Me: Poopy diaper?

Alexis: It's a joke! Poopy diaper! (Literally drops the phone because she was laughing so hard.)

Me: ????

Alexis: OK, goodbye!