You know you are at a park in Pasadena when…
- your children are the only kids there not wearing Crocs.
- the primary athletic event is Ultimate Frisbee.
- between you and your husband, you know half the people playing frisbee.
- every other parent pushing their kid on the swings is on their cell phone.
- the parking lot could be mistaken for a Honda Odyssey showroom.
Husbands who say the words: “I’ll take both the kids to Ikea with me so that you can…” to the dead-tired pregnant woman mid-afternoon should be knighted (or should at least get a lot of foot rubs).
Being pregnant has some distinct advantages at the grocery store: the deli guy must have given me six pieces of meat to eat while he was slicing our turkey.
Grocery shopping can actually be almost relaxing without children (especially with a Starbucks latte in hand, thank you Jennifer!).
It seems that whenever I am scheduled to preach, there is inevitably a very loud party in close proximity to our house. Today was First Communion, so half of our neighborhood is that incredibly large party. Should be an interesting sermon tomorrow morning…
UPDATE: one crying infant and a grumpy worship-leader later, the party next-door seems to be settling down and my sermon is mostly finished.
About an hour ago, in the midst of our neighbor’s celebrations of their little girl’s religious rite of passage, there were a few rounds of gunfire exchanged at the end of our street, and a helicopter had the spot painted for some time. Jefferson was shut down and a large number of police and emergency vehicles could be seen. I am assuming at this point that someone was shot, but I don’t know anything more at this time.
Nope, there’s the music again…It’s going to be a late night.