So THIS is what the downs feel like.......????

I've been trying to figure out a way to write about this without sounding like a whiny baby or a curmudgeon (to use one of my Nanny's words), but here goes.....





We had a crappy weekend. Crappy, crappy, crappy. In retrospect, I think the crappiness all started when Jax pooped on the neighbor's couch.





Rach and Maxine had gotten themselves into a bit of a tiff Friday night. Luckily, Maxine was in Louisiana, so the argument was over the phone and no one was in any immediate jeopardy of getting clocked in the face. I'm not even joking. Why do you think that I'm being so diplomatic about the details of the argument? Because breaking up a fight between these two women would be like jumping in between Optimus Prime and Megatron. You had better be ready to die and/or reconstruct any bridges or large buildings in the area. I'm serious. I mean, to be fair, Rach and Max absolutely love each other. They're closer than most sisters are. And 99% of the time they get along swimmingly. It's just that when you see that 1%, it will force you to make the same face that you would make if you saw a grizzly bear doing tae-kwon-do in a leisure suit; you're completely shocked and oddly impressed, but ultimately it scares the crap out of you.





Side note: I was thinking about this the other day and this is a little strange: Maxine and Racheal are like sisters, which would make Max like my sister-in-law. But at the same time, I think of Tori and Gavin as being my kids, which would make Max like my baby-mama....so that would make her my sister/baby-mama. And you don't think we make the Osbournes look like the Cleavers? (I know, but I couldn't think of a more modern day all-american family. I thought maybe the 7th Heaven family, but I don't know their last name. And I didn't like the fact that Jessica Biel had to go semi-nude to get out of her contract for that show. And I didn't like how they were always trying to convince you that the 'not so attractive' daughter was actually the 'attractive' daughter by making her hook up with the captain of every sport team that existed. But I never really ever watched that show. Promise.) But I digress, back to the crapfest.





Anyway, we dealt with their COMPLETELY legitimate argument until after midnight (seriously, they both scare me), then we packed for beautiful Florence, South Carolina! Let me get a show of hands from everyone that's been to florence?.....Anyone?....No?.....You in the back there?? No? Alright, anyway it's about 2 hours north of Charleston, and if you haven't been there, you haven't missed very much. It's not exactly the ideal vacationing spot for the 4th of July. The drive was crappy, the whole team played like crap, Jaxon fell off of the crappy bleachers and managed to hit his head on every crappy step on the way down like a Plinko chip (I know what you're thinking, and no, his head did not damage the bleachers or the concrete. Oh, you were worried about him? Yeah, he was fine.), the service at Chili's was crappy, the service at Dick's Sporting Goods was crappy, we were all in crappy moods, but the hotel was nice.





Rach had to work on Sunday, so she took Jax back home with her early, which was crappy. But it was kind of okay though, because we were in such bad moods and just generally getting on each other's nerves that it's probably better that she had to leave early. Neither of us would ever admit it though, because we're SUPPOSED to want to spend that time together. But I would not categorize that time as 'quality' time. But that's when I realized how crappy we were acting. Because Rach and I aren't like that. We're the couple that listens to other people complain about their relationships and think, 'Wow. Sucks to be you.' We're the couple that everyone else hates; we're young, we're good looking (this is the equivalent of me licking my thumb and forefinger then straightening out my eyebrows....then giving the wink and the gun), we've got great kids, we've both got great jobs, and we're incredibly happy. That's the part that kills other people. The happiness. But I guess somewhere along the way, while you're busy worrying about all of the other stuff that you have to do, all the little stuff that annoys you, the work stuff, the bills, the newly deceased pop stars, it's easy to forget about the happiness. And you may even be doing the exact same day to day tasks that you were doing when you had the happiness, but you're miserable for some reason. And why? What's different? The thing that saves usin our situation is that we can recognize when we're just going through the motions; when we're only letting in the things that are negative. But it's just as easy to only let in the positive things. For instance, this is the only picture that I have from this weekend.

Look at how happy they are

In ten years, do you think I'll remember how crappy this trip was? No, of course not. I'm going to remember all of the effort, concentration, and genius that Racheal put into making that seemingly normal T-shirt a little more....um....uh.....ahem....revealing. Yes, revealing. No other word comes to mind. (Recycle joke from above on how scary she is)





On a side note, all of the other softball moms at the tournament felt the need to let Racheal know the exact date that they stopped dressing up and wearing makeup for tournaments. As if Rach was just trying to look good for the benefit of the other moms. 'Oh, I used to do my hair, and pluck my eyebrows, and wear things other than sweat pants.' Look, we know that we're younger and better looking. We know this. Actually, the only thing that tops our awesomeness is how unbelievably humble we are. (again, straightening out the eyebrows) But you know what? I don't care why you stopped working out. Or how you used to bench press 400 lbs. Or how you're too busy. Or have an overactive thyroid. Or an underactive thyroid. Or a lazy thyroid. Or a thyroid named Sven. I don't care. I take care of myself because it makes me feel good, not because it makes you feel bad. You see, I choose to do things that make happy. The trick is remembering to be happy while I'm doing them.





But I'm pretty good at that, too. (one more time with the wink and the gun.)