Picture it: Yesterday after rendering myself nearly comatose by consuming five times my share of carbs at breakfast, I was just nestling into my couch when I received a fateful, and rather unwelcome phone call. It was Brandy, oozing with energy and motivation. She had walked seven hundred miles to find a new park with her kids, and insisted that we drive over and meet up with them. When I balked, trying to stretch my carb-induced lethargy into some real-sounding maladies, she only got perkier, which I resented. She then proceeded to throw down the ultimate mother-to-mother gauntlet, and reminded me how good it would be for my kids to get out and enjoy this exceptionally beautiful day. I was defenseless against this admonishment. I thought I might try to injure myself to validate my selfish, lazy need to stay home, but that too would require getting off the couch. You cannot imagine how badly I did NOT want to go to the park, but I looked into the faces of my children, and was totally convicted by her words. I s-c-r-a-p-e-d myself up off the couch, grabbed our coats and a soccer ball, and went. What began as sheer torture at the hands of my closest ally, ended up as a splendid day in which our five kids ran and ran and laughed. I concede that she was correct in prodding me to come, but I will say this.: Next time I flop down onto the couch, I'm silencing my phone.
Giddy up Quinn!
The one time Reilly stopped running.
First time on a merry-go-round.
Quinn, Reilly, Addison, Rose, Maia, and Brandy