Can we stop having fun now?

Alright, summer.  Uncle.

When I decided to start this blog, I thought I would post a few little snippets each week.  That's  proving to be nearly impossible.  Between tending to my baby, my house, and my high maintenance dog, there's little time left.  And what's left gets spent on fun summer stuff.

Lately though, the fun summer stuff is taking up the biggest piece of the time-pie.  And it's SO FUN.  But as we near the end of August, the "dog days" of summer, (it's 60 degrees as I write this. wtf.) I feel kind of like a drug addict;  thinking, planning, crafting my next summer adventure. It can't be almost over! We just started!  I only got one pedicure!  The people only got to see one shade of red on my toes for the whole summer!

Do you do this too?  Cram as much fun as humanly possible into twelve weeks? By the end I'm so full of fun it's hard to even see straight.

Apparently, we had fun.

My summer has been full of more fun than usual, though.  It started with wedding preparations, then the wedding itself.



Then there was the post wedding gift-opening barbeque/father of the groom's birthday party at my parent's house.  Bean bags, beer, every single relative we had just seen the previous day, I mean, why not?  Those parents of mine, they really like to make a lot of work for themselves.  I'm starting to see where I get it.



Two days after the wedding we went to our yearly family reunion and spent a week doing things like this:

And even though I'm a mom now, my family still continues to torture me by doing things like this:

has there ever been a more awkward person?

the answer is no.

And sometimes we do things like this.  Because we can.

lawyer. photographer. baby daddy. keg stand master.

And when we get sick of the lake and the beer, we head to the pond for some fishing and tattoos. 

You think we're kidding about these tats?  Wait til next year. We'll all be 18.  Someone might even be 31. (Also, has it ever dawned on any of you Schuettes that 1106 is basically just 611 backward? These are the deep thoughts I think at 5 am.)

I mean, LOOK at the fun we are having.  I could post endless numbers of photos just like these, but I'm not sure who wants to be shown in their bathing suits.  I sure don't, but I'll do anything for a few more page views.

See?

See?

Summer has been much more than just weddings and cottage week; nightly bbq's, days lounging by the pool (honestly who can "lounge" with a 9 month old near an open expanse of water), stopping for custard, bike rides, farmers' markets, day trips.  Must. Do. More. Fun. Stuff.

He grilled an entire goat.  I didn't eat it.

Happy 90th Gma.  Not even kidding.

A wise man once told me, "August is the Sunday of summer." Like September 1st rolls around and the fun card is punched and it's back to school, back to fricken work. I've got 12 days left.  12 DAYS LEFT.  I'm telling you, I'm a junkie.  Must. have. fun.

For example, tomorrow you might find me at my grandparent's pool on a stand up paddleboard, holding an ice cream cone in one hand and a special summer microbrew in the other, while a very patient and steady-handed nail tech paints my toenails. Then I'll return home to roast a s'more over a roaring campfire, wearing Grace in a baby bjorn, strumming my guitar and singing campfire songs while watching the Perseids. After, we'll have a family sleepover under the stars, wake up bright eyed and bushy tailed the next morning, bike to our garden to harvest some fresh tomatoes, eggplants, carrots and whip up a fresh batch of salsa and maybe some pasta sauce and how about a nice peach cobbler?  WE HAVEN'T MADE ANY PEACH COBBLER THIS SUMMER! 

You feel it, don't you.  You get it.  And here's the thing, I decided to do about twenty eight projects around my house yesterday so I NEVER GOT TO FINISH THIS POST AND  it's now August 20th, so I'm down to ELEVEN DAYS. 

Guess what.  Still couldn't get it done yesterday. TEN DAYS. %#$@!!

Gotta go.