Vegas, Baby, Vegas!

"Welcome to hot and steamy Las Vegas, girls. You've had a long flight from Boston, I know, but we are glad you're here. Sit a spell, relax, sip on a frozen strawberry margarita. Melt those cares away and rest up, gals, there are no clocks here. And the inside of our casinos are perfectly climate controlled. On your mark, get set.....GO!"

After we spent the afternoon in the pool, at lunch at the poolside restaurant where the umbrellas misted us and the palm trees kept us shaded so we would not overheat...we got dressed and ventured out to the other casinos. This is Caesar's Palace. Opulence like I have never seen. Upscale shop this, imported tile, that.

This is not the outside. It is a handpainted ceiling, full of clouds, lit to create the perfect illusion. Perhaps a metaphor for the city itself?

Still hot at night, but a soft glow makes the city sparkle.

Ah, the Bellagio. I felt every step of George Clooney's shoes the second I stepped into this place. Of course, it was even more glam in person.

The Strip at night. After seeing so many movies about Vegas...The Hangover, What Happens in Vegas, Stays in Vegas, The Cooler, Oceans Eleven, etc. I thought I knew Vegas. But until you go there, you don't really know.

The view from my totally luxurious $88 a night hotel room. This is why people go to Vegas. You pay pennies for a gorgeous hotel room so you will spend your money in the casinos! But when I looked out the window I just kept thinking...boy, I am a long way from home.

Our last night. I had begun to feel like I was the last person on earth not to have visited this place and now it was almost time to leave. We all could have used another day. Linda (on the left) organized this trip to celebrate our shared "big" birthday. I just don't feel like saying the year. We all went to high school together, are still friends, and had a ball celebrating in the wild, wild west.

Oh the Cirque Du Soleil LOVE featuring Beatles music was to die for.
My jaw dropped open at the artistry, the music, the sheer physicality
of the performers. If you e-v-e-r get the chance to see this show don't
miss it.

Souvenir shop. Fabulous Las Vegas, indeed!

My baby is 9

A rousing celebration we did have on the first day of summer, Ronan's official birthday. He turned 9. Last year we tried to do an outdoor event and it rained and it was postponed and it rained and finally somewhere around the end of July we were able to have the party. Although a little hot, it was perfect weather for a pool party. We don't actually have a pool, but my Brother Jay and his wife Catherine do, and they were generous enough to let us crash at their place.

If I was a 9 year old boy, this would have been my perfect afternoon. We had sack races...

and obstacle courses...

and we had cake and ice cream.

Since the beginning...mini-me. There's no getting around it. Everything about them is identical.

My Ronan, enjoy your membership to "Club Penguin" from your friend, Brian. These scratchy little handwritten notes are fleeting (and precious). May you stay forever young.

The whole family took part in this party!

The brothers were only too "happy" to lifeguard a gaggle of 9 year old boys.

On the count of 3! The only problemo was that I forgot to take on "before" they jumped in and then the day got busy and I never did get another group photo! It happens, people, it happens. Even when the mom tries really, really hard!

What's a backyard pool party without a pie eating contest? When we told the boys about the pie eating contest, I must say right then and there in the most unexpected place came bubbling up our societal pampering of these children. Remember when we were 9, she says like an elder ; ) It would have been "PIE! REALLY? AND IT'S NOT THANKSGIVING??" These coddled ones, "what kind of pie?" "I've never had boston creme pie before" "I don't know if I should" "I might get sick". Seriously.

Now I can't say I have not added to the problem. I make sure my youngest is cozy and comfortable and secure at all times. I wanted him to bring a blanket and a travel pillow on the plane when he traveled with his father to visit family in Florida. So Rich informed him that "real men don't bring blankets on the plane" and we all laughed about it. But it's true, really.

So I will teach you what I can teach you and your father will teach you his perspective on the world. I heard from many people when you were born that "he will be the joy of your life." Just sayin' with a 6 and 8 year old in the house already and chasing the heck out of you for 4 years I just didn't see the "joy" part. The cracking up part, yes. The taking care of part, yes. The accomplishment part (look at all of these boys that I gave birth to!), yes. I always thought it would just be Brady and Carter so when you came along, well, I am still surprised!

But let me say, without question, as we grow together you are most assuredly the joy of my life. Without being completely maudlin...ok, sometimes I am...to quote "our" song that I thought fit us as soon as I heard it "God Bless the broken road that led me straight to you."

Recital Days

I admit it, I bribe my son to take hip-hop. It's his 3rd year and he really likes it and gets a good workout from it. But let's just say that I don't think he would "volunteer" to go if there were not a little payment involved. I danced for 10 years and so these hours of dress rehersal and recitals don't bother me at all.

Little Miss Tap. These wee ones were waiting to go on stage and in the 15 minute period they were "without" their parents, many had little meltdowns.

I brought Legos, knowing from year's past there's not much to do in the "waiting room" so he was perfectly happy.

Here's his group, waiting to go on. 10 girls and 3 boys in the dance. They did a great job!

Harvard calling....

"We are writing to offer our congratulations on your academic achievements and to encourage you to consider the opportunities available at Harvard as you plan your academic future."

I know they send out thousands of these. I know we get something from a different college every day during this all important college planning time between junior and senior year. I know that they base it on test scores and they don't know anything about my kid - YET! But it's not a bad day when Harvard comes calling in the mail to your son. 'Cause sista there was no app to Harvard addressed to his momma in 1978! Just holding it my hands made me proud.