Lalalalala

Weekend? Glorious.
Friday night was delightful food and staying up way too late watching Dexter. (Seriously? Need to finish this season in order to get anything done. Ridiculously addictive). In our house Friday nights aren't really weekends, since Xtian goes to work at 3:30 am on Saturday mornings. I really look forward to a random day in the near-distant future when that won't be the case anymore. *sigh*

Saturday morning Sarah came over before her all day date. We threw the kid in the car and ran down to the Farmer's Market to load up on tasties. Oh my god. The teensy little grapes were like candy. Unfortunately for me, I told the boys about the grapes before eating any. I turned around and there were two grapes left. Note to self: next time, get two bunches and save one for ME!

The rest of the weekend was pretty mellow, which is what we all needed. The last few weeks we've been going 24/7 and that makes Warren sleep like shit. Which means we all sleep like shit. Need to find a little better balance between the fun I want to have and the rest we all need.

Xtian's Crazy Mom called this weekend. He didn't pick up, but it caused me to ask him when he last spoke her. Turns out, her birthday was Saturday (whoops, out of sight out of mind, eh?) and he'd called to say "Happy Birthday" and had mailed her a little gift. I kind of rolled my eyes, but I didn't say anything. My gut reaction was to scream, "YOU DARED SPEND OUR MONEY ON SOMETHING FOR THAT HORRIBLE WOMAN?!?!?!" But I kept it in, and gritted my teeth. I don't really understand Xtian's guilty need to keep her in his life in some form or another. But then, my mother isn't a mentally ill bitch who treats her children horribly. I have some family members I choose to not deal with until I'm forced to, but none that close in relation. I know it's hard for him, so I'm trying to not make anything harder by being mean about it. But damn, I just want to shake him and yell "She's horrible! She says horrible things to and about you, me, your brother, everyone!" But it doesn't change his guilt, or make his burden any less.

Damn, being a supportive person is really a lot of work some days.

Oh, and since I stopped going to the gym, and started running outside again, I've actually improved my running ability. Imagine that. But why, oh why do men in my neighborhood think that my running is an invitation to say demeaning things to me? And no, I'm not wearing skintight running gear, or anything that invites comment. White t-shirt, black sweats, ear phones in place. Clearly, a sign I'm interested in your commentary.

Oh and lessons learned this weekend:
1. Rum is delicious and makes a crappy week fade into distant memory
2. Warren is the biggest flirt in the world
3. Fried chicken still the single tastiest food product you can find