It was a lovely weekend here in South Carolina, the kind of weekend where doing nothing counts as doing something, if only because it’s sunny and warm and because being outside in and of itself is enough. Case in point:
After hanging out in the backyard for a while playing, throwing the football, and generally lolling about, the kids had a water balloon fight at our neighbor’s house yesterday afternoon. Though we typically don’t have super-harsh winters, it’s still odd for us to be running around in bathing suits in February.
It’s always a great weekend when we have the opportunity to get-together with cousins, and this weekend was one of those weekends. Friday evenings the older two have basketball practice at the Y; they’re on a team with their cousins, Heather’s son, and some other friends, and it’s a funny thing to watch. It’s like a cross between rugby and basketball, with some fouling, airballing, and serious double dribbling going on. We had dinner together on Friday night after practice to give my mom and dad a send off-Dad is now in the Dominican Republic with a group from our church, and Mom headed out of town with my Aunt Lynne for a little mid-winter sojourn to the beach. Saturday morning we had a basketball game…
And on Sunday morning, we met at 10:15 at the Bi-Lo center…
Now. A disclaimer. On Saturday night I was texting BA, my co-Sunday school teacher, telling him I wouldn’t be with him and the senior highs in the morning because we were going to the circus, and he informed me that when he came home on Friday, their babysitter was on the phone with PETA organizing a protest against the circus. And I totally get it. My own feelings about the circus are mixed, to say the least. But we went anyway, so there it is.
We got there early enough for the pre-show, which means we got to get down on the floor with some of the performers, try on costumes, and get in the ring.
I found myself thinking about the sub-culture that is the circus, about this community of performers that works, eats, sleeps, travels, and lives together while they’re touring the country with Barnum and Bailey. I wondered, too, about the existing hierarchy; for example, how do the cat trainer-that’s domestic cats, running on tight ropes and climbing poles and generally doing things that cats do-and the amazing hair-hanging sisters view each other? What do the guys that dangerously ride their motorcycles at top speeds round and round in the big metal cage think of the trapeze artists? Do the elephant trainers and the tiger trainer size each other up? Just curious, really, how it all shakes out, who is dating whom, how and why they joined the circus in the first place, if Robert Pattinson and Reese Witherspoon were there, etc etc.
In other news, this guy is finally potty-trained.
With the exception of Friday afternoon when he inexplicably ran out the front door of my parents’ house, ran into the backyard, got undressed from the waist down and pooped in the backyard (still had socks on!), he’s done really well. I found him back there, standing in the mulch beside the garage, looking a little confused. I suppose it was the Call of the Wild?? Cognitively he’s been ready to quit the diapers for over a year, I think, but the kid is stubborn. I think he knew we wanted him to potty-train, so he of course refused.
But he’s now doing that, which is good. One thing I’m still not doing, sadly, is this.
Hope everyone had a great weekend!