I promise not to dwell on this forever.............

I can only wish I would have had my camera for the events of the weekend.

Heat........Rain.............Heat..............Rain...............Wind.................Lightening................More heat............More rain...................

It wasn't pretty.

All that work, time, material, fuel, tents, tables, chairs, wristbands, tickets, planning, press releases, credentials, golf carts..........................under water.

Friday was wet- but the show went off without a hitch.  The crowds came, the planes flew, the world was perfect.

Monte Carlo Night came and went.

And then the rain rain rain came down down down and the already soaked ground just began to hold the water.....................the parking lots looked like ponds.  And Saturday morning as I drove in, I just knew it wasn't going to be pretty.  Just as I parked the van a torrential downpour opened up and for almost two hours the Lord showered that little airport with almost 2 inches of rain.  TWO INCHES. 

And the show was cancelled.  First time in 14 years.  Spectators were waiting at the gates and were told to go back home.  The weather was going to clear, it turned out to be a gorgeous afternoon.  But the parking lots (corn fields) were pouring over with water.  No where to park.

Every pissed of spectator called the office.  Some came in.  It was glorious. 

I would have been mad too.  The tickets say rain or shine.........................but there was no plan for an alternate place to put 12000 cars that we could come up with in 15 minutes.  Just couldn't be done.

But who got to talk to these fine mad people?  Me and the other three gals willing to help with the phones. 

Saturday night- more storms.  Armed with binder clips and a stapler, I set out to secure a freakin' static helicopter that a photo vendor brought to the show so that the storm wouldn't blow it away.  Thank goodness there are more inventive people than me that finally helped to stake the silly thing to the ground.

Tents were shredded, things blew over, but I'll be danged if that helicopter didn't stay put.

And Sunday, when we did get the gates open and parked the cars ON THE RUNWAY by access of a brand new road that we built on Saturday (an entire gravel road in just one day with all volunteers and donated items- amazing)............people were mad that it took forever to get into the show.  Yeah- not as easy to funnel thousands of cars onto one gravel road as it sounds.  So I got to talk to them all too.

And I hauled them all over the airport on golf carts when the show was over since we'd had to park them all over the place.  But at least it wasn't raining then.

And the vendors- they had mud around their tents and no one was coming up to them.  They wanted to move.  I suggested that they move to Wyoming, because that was the closest real estate not under water.  Deal with it.

It is an outdoor event- and it rained buckets.  We did the best we could.  And Sunday it worked.  And the planes flew, and it was great.

And that night- another storm.  I couldn't help but to bust into hysterical laughter as I chatted on the radio with a concessions vendor who spotted a two story inflatable Marsh grocery sack be ripped out of the ground by the wind - and he then proceeded to chase it down with his truck to keep it from blowing away.  As he was out in the rain wrestling a still inflated huge grocery sack that was wrapped around his vehicle he was crying out for help from anyone willing to come out in the rain and slay the beast with him.  It was just all so funny.  The mud, the wind, the rain, the mad people, the understanding people, just so funny.

My feet are pickled, the office is filled with mud, my eyes have rings around them, and my ankles are swollen.

Mynde Air Show 2010 is now a wrap.

Joy.

Note:  To the a**hole who produced himself in the air show office Saturday and drove me to tears when I finally told him I couldn't do it anymore and walked out of the office leaving him there alone in his steaming fury...................I hear Dayton has a great show, maybe you should go there next year.  And tell your kids I'm sorry, but just to them, not you.  You deserve the same level of joy you spread.

Holy Cow Batman,

I can not even begin to describe the toll that working 59 hours in the past five days has taken on my brain.

I'm not even positive what day it is.

Just two more days until the show for 2010 is done.

So many people work so very hard on a volunteer basis all year long to make this show possible, and they are some of the most fabulous people that I know.  And I am honored to work along side of them to make this event come together.  Now all we need is for God to continue to allow the weather to 'just miss' the airport- and to protect all from harm.

But I would be completely lying if I said I won't be glad when it's over.

Because I will.

My wittle baby...................

This little man...................is my little man.

And he seems to be getting bigger by the minute.

After camping with his daddy last weekend- he promptly returned home and wanted his training wheels removed from his bike.  As in wanted to ride with two wheels. Without training wheels.

I explained he was just a baby and needed his training wheels.  He was quick to respond that I was wrong.

And in a flash, he and his daddy had removed them.  And just like that *snapping fingers*- he was riding a two wheeler.

No wobbling.  No crying.  No fretting.  No falling.

Done.

*heart breaks and then swells with that mother joy that comes when you see how proud your children are of growing up way too fast and mastering yet another skill*

He also had to get all new underwear this week.  Size 6.  What?  How is that possible- they looked so HUGE.  But seem to fit his little tiny boy body so perfectly.  Apparently it was his too little underpants that were making big red spots on his tiny little baby hips.

And into a box go his perfectly perfect hardly worn at all size 4 Thomas the Tank Engine and Lightning McQueen panties.  Done.  Superman too.  Gone.

The only consolation there is that he still wanted character underwear.  Batman and Transformers.  In size 6- in case you missed that part.  As in not 4's.  6's.

Every day for a week, this little man comes running down the hallway first thing in the morning, only to ask what time Melissia (our neighbor who is babysitting for me during air show time) will be coming over.  He loves her.  No, really.  He LOVES her.  And he should, she is pretty awesome.

But I am missing my children like mad crazy.  I've been working a quad-boatload of hours for the past month, with the past week being really bad, and my arms are literally aching just to touch them. 

As I was pulling out of the neighborhood to go back to work for a few more hours this evening, Sam took a huge spill on that mean monster of a two wheeled machine and smashed his little face all up.  Dan called and I came back home.

And I held him, and his two super fat lips, as he held me back.

(Well, in this picture he is not holding me back- he is hiding his fat lips from daddy and the camera.  But before this picture, he was holding me and I was holding him)

After all was well and the bleeding had stopped, I reprepared to go back to work. 

Sam looked me right in the eyes and said "just a few more days, right momma?"

Yes Sammy- just a few more days.  I am so very much anxiously looking forward to beginning our lazy summer days of swimming pools, sprinklers, zoo trips and bike rides.

Just a few more days.

Freak of the Week

To say I am hormonal is a bit of an understatement.

Every month- I have one really happy week, one crying week and two weeks where I feel like an axe murderer escaped from prison.

No joke.

Last month, during my crying week, I finally made the time to call my doctor and make an appointment.  Because this just isn't right and surely there is something she can give me.  Anything.  I even frightened the receptionist when I called because I was SOBBING.  She kept saying they could squeeze me in that same day if I really needed her to.  Yeah- freak show woman over here.

So- the point of this overly drawn out story is that she suggested I go back on the pill.  In my head I was all Yeah Yeah whatever, like THAT's going to help.

I have been on them now for three weeks.  I can not even begin to describe how super wonderfully great much better I feel.  No crazy meaness, no screaming at everyone, no breaking into tears every day from all the stress of trying to have this show and be a mom/wife too.  Calm, cool, collectected.  Not once in the past three weeks have I clutched my hair while moaning "I'm going to have a stroke"- and believe me the month previous with all the stress and confusion I said it alot.  ALOT.

Even one of the gals at work, who was curled up in a ball under by desk sucking her thumb and crying asked why I was so calm and happy all the time.  That was my confirmation, these pills are the perfect nectar of love.

Until Sunday.

Sunday I ran out of my perfectly orange colored love muffins and started that one week of plain white ones. 

You know the last row in the pack, the ones that allow mother nature to perfectly complete the womanly cycle.

This week.  THIS WEEK.  The most busy week of my entire year.  The week I will work no less than 80 hours in just 5 short days.  The week where 23 people will be asking me something all at the same time while trying to cram their way in front of my desk.  The week where performers, committee members and vendors will all decend upon me asking for everything they have been promised. This is the week that aunt flo will be visiting.

Watch out- something tells me I only get three happy weeks a month.  And this isn't going to be one of them. 

Bring on the clowns

I can now say that I know what Ball Day is.

It is pure,

uninhibited,

uncontainable,

beyond measure,

fun.

Laced with squirt guns, silly string, balloons, streamers, squealing, laughing and barrels and barrel of candy.

There is the crown.  I'm not sure if it even made it out of the park before blowing down.

Emily was still proud- and that is what matters.

Her team won an ice cream shop gift card for their float.

I am positive that it was because of that fabulous crown.

I must say, after loading the kids onto their floats and running downtown to find a parade spot, it felt kind of lonely sitting there without any small children.  Just me and Dan.  Anxiously awaiting the kids and the parade. 

Somebody stop me...............

I've heard tales of people who are involved in horrible accidents that, after the fact, they say they heard somebody screaming during the situation but didn't realize it was them.

I've had a similar experience.

Saturday is Ball Day for the kids softball league.  I don't know what this means.  But it must be something big as I have seen signs at all the schools about it and the kids are all involved in 'the' parade.

At one of Emily's last games the coach and mothers gathered to discuss our 'float'. 

In my head I had already told myself that I have no time to even wipe up whatever that sticky stuff is on the kitchen floor, let alone help with this project.  Be a Shower Upper this time.  You can't do it Mynde.  Not this time.  You can't do it.  Air Show, Air Show, Air Show.  Survival woman, focus on your survival.

I heard somebody say "A giant crown for the pick up truck would be cool.  I wonder if anyone has a giant box from anything?"

And then I heard someone say that they just got a new washer and could make one.

And I stood there with "you can't do everything or be everything to everyone" running through my head and realized they were all looking at me.  AT ME.  Apparently I had said it.

Don't get me wrong.  This is the kind of thing I love.  Working on something fun with the kids for something fun for the kids.  That is what I enjoy in life.  But not now.  Not for the next two weeks.  I can't.  There is no enjoy anything for me for two more weeks.  Too.Much.Work.At.Air.Show.

So last night after working all day (remember- I am used to part time- 2 or 3 hours a day, 2-3 days a week- so this is rough for me) I came home to cut out a crown and bust out the silver paint and glitter.

And while checking email, I got one from Sam's team talking about being at the park at 7:30am (WHAT?) Saturday morning to decorate the float.  And how someone was going to make big paper baseballs with each kids name and number on them.  Just a few clicks of the old keyboard and I had volunteered to try and get the paper disks from a pizzaria and draw the red lines on them.

Again- not that it's a big deal- but I am struggling to keep up with normal life stuff these days.  HAVE I LOST MY EVER LOVING MIND?

I'm just eternally grateful that Allyson's team is hitching along with the coaches 8 year old team (literally riding in a trailer on their truck float) and just need to produce themselves Saturday morning and climb aboard.

Somebody stop me before I volunteer for something else.................................

(sidenote- I laid the giant crown in the driveway to make the glue design and shake the glitter on.  Then we left it there to dry for a while.  Dan drove over it. With the car. NICE!  It now has a rather interesting design of tire tread instead of diamond jewels.  You have got to be kidding me, right?  Don't think I'm not taking it Saturday just like that.)

Insecurity Juncion

So- on Emily's team there is a little girl with this mother.  All us mothers tend to chat while the kids practice- it just is what we do.  Except this mother.

This mother happens to be one that wears Lady GaGa t-shirts, trendy sunglasses and always looks gorgeous.  And she is an assistant at the girls school.  Whom Ally loves.  But she's distant, removed, perhaps just shy?

I like to think I am a likable gal.  Probably not everyones choice for a close friend, but pleasant.  And with kids the same age- these are the women I will spend the next 12 or so years with as we cycle through our children's school years.

One day, I casually mentioned to 'this mother' (whom had never ever said boo to me or offered any pleasant chit chat) that it looked like we were going to have a light crowd for our kids games (only our two had shown up) and she- without looking at me- said 'Yeah' and then MOVED herself to the other side of the dug out.  We were the one two people there- and she MOVED.

So since then, because I am obsessed about people liking me, I have gone out of my way to smile at her.  Never once has she even looked at me.  I'm not kidding.

So a normal person might just say that this lady must be a complete B word and leave it at that.

But not me.  It is consuming me.  I cheer for her kid (in reality I cheer for them all), I smile at her, and I spend my time at the games trying to figure out how to make her like me.

Why doesn't she like me?  Probably because I'm fat I've decided.  She probably thinks that's gross.  Because the other mothers I see her being pleasant with are thin.  That's got to be it.

Next game I might hand wash her car and offer her a homemade casserole since she is such a busy gal.  Then I will compliment her on her trendiness.

Or I will accept that she is a rude prude who really shouldn't make a difference in my world at all- and then chit chat with the OTHER 7 mothers who do like me.

I'm off to do sit ups- I've got to slim down for my new 'friend'.

She will like me.