July. Again.

Good morning everyone. I’m doing a daring thing right now: blogging without an editor. Not even second-guessing. July is crazy. That’s my excuse. July rivals December in the ability to bring me this close to the edge, so here we go.

Things you can depend upon in July:

Some people dream of having their name in lights…

Ants. Have we said enough about them yet? I’ve soaked them with poison for the entire month and they are multiplying. There are ants in Blythe, right now, hearing about a promised land that is my house, and they are packing up their wagon to move west.

Heat. Your mom’s yearly manic speech about moving to Oregon where life is lush and green and wet and breezy, not dry and barren and bleak and soul-sucking. It was 119* on her patio but she was pretty sure that a fan and a spritz bottle would handle it.

Kids. Look, I don’t want to hear your speech about how mine are older now and how hard can it be, with only one left in high school. The diaper days were filled with educationally stimulating interactive projects that included creating booger art on the bathroom walls, but seeing these same man-children acting like vegetables in front of the internet makes me question every reason I had about having them in the first place.

School. They need to go back. I will shop the Target sales, just to speed up the process. I will – for the LAST TIME – fill out these massive documents in triplicate so that they will be forced off of the man-cave bean bag chairs and back into common sense booger art.

Guests. Hello vacay! At my house! Y’all come! My day job held this one at bay for a couple of years, and now I wonder whether I’ve still “got it”. There are kiwis sleeping one room over as we speak, and the beds were freshly made but I didn’t have time to prepare anything fabulous for breakfast, and here I am sitting at my desk writing instead, so there’s been a priority shift obviously and I only hope they like cold cereal.

Bible School. The last full week of July. Always. And of course, you have volunteered to do a thing. No matter what job you raised your hand for, it always looks like a yard sale in the living room for two full weeks ahead of time, because you need to make sure you remember everything because you are not driving all the way back home on a Tuesday night to fetch a lesson plan. The kids suddenly don’t have any pants that fit or enough underwear to last for seven days and you visit Target every day of July until management gives you a raise and a new red shirt.

Writing. I’ve been working on websites and newsletters, and making custom MadLibs which are probably funnier than my blog, so I should include a couple for you.    ( A Tour of Camp )    I also worked on a short story series that is super-hero themed and feels a little comic book-ish, so it may not land in the blog. This is because my sons decided my education needed an update and forced me to watch both “Guardians of the Galaxy” movies and I just have to believe…if raccoons and trees and complete poppycock can make it onto the big screen…there is hope for us little people.

Oh, and Italy. Our research includes watching movies made in or about Italy while stuffing Boom Chicka Pop into our mouth and trying to not fall asleep on the couch. The language is basically exaggerated Spanglish. So long as I am very passionate about the subject, I think Italy will understand me.

But for now, July has taken it all. The ants, the kids, the guests, and the Hubby can have the hot house covered in suitcases, boxes, and cereal bowls. I almost shanked an innocent Aussie with a hole punch for attempting to hug me yesterday. I’m not proud of this. I offered a free piercing for whatever he had handy. On the house.

If you need me, I’ll be in Target, sorting the ice cream case.

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