Mari and Doug swung by this morning to pick Kyla and I up for a trip out to see some waterfalls. We saw Multnomah Falls, Horsetail, and one other whose name escapes me now. (I knew I should’ve taken pictures of the signs. Nuts.) The trip reminded me, among other things, that I haven’t been out to see any of the falls since Ben still lived in Portland. I enjoyed the heck out of seeing them anyway, though.

And yes, I did say “pictures.” I have a memory card chock full of ‘em which I’ll be posting soon. Give me some time; it’s been a very long and somewhat-eventful weekend… over too soon, for all that we had four days of it…

The planned part of the day: The kids were to come over for a visit, Kyla would fix foodstuffs, and we’d play some games to pass the time. This would have gone well but for a big blow-out altercation involving one particular kidlet’s combination of finicky eating habits and lack of consideration. And I mean “big blow-out,” involving anger and tears and yelling and banging things around.

Argh!

The unplanned part of the day: There was a vague agreement that Kyla and I would meet up with Mari and Doug in the evening, possibly for going out to eat. Not only did we go out to eat (at the sushi-go-round place) but we also spent a fun late-evening playing games and generally being silly geeky people.

Whee!

So apparently the lesson here is, don’t plan things…

In case my immune system is paying attention, I’d like to tell it one quick thing:

It is not at all amusing to keep me up half the night with a sore throat and swollen glands right before my last day of work before a much-anticipated vacation that happens to involve a visit by my dearest beloved.

Granted, I’m most appreciative that the symptoms seem to have gone almost completely away by mid-afternoon, but that doesn’t completely make up for the stress levels caused by worry over the fate of our plans for the weekend.

That will be all. Thank you.

You know you’ve reached a certain critical milestone as a parent when you look your oldest child in the eye… and realize you’re looking them right in the eye, because they’re just as tall as you are.

The boy’s twelve, which means he’s not even done yet! Oh, man.

Still, he’s a good kid, so hopefully I won’t ever face the possibility of trying to punish a kid who’s bigger than I am…