Well, not lost, because other people’s good times were facilitated. Which is important. And hey, I didn’t mind sponging up 11 episodes of Lost. I did mind the Vols losing – could only watch that up until the end of the 3rd quarter. I didn’t mind the Colts winning – I didn’t watch that until the 4th quarter, and since it was 3-0 when I turned it on, and the Colts promptly scored, apparently thanks to me, I figured I owed it to them to finish watching. Although I couldn’t because I had to take someone somewhere during which time I could listen to the justly infamous dreadful Colts radio guys, the worst of whom is this apparently 90-year old guy whom they call up from a cornfield on Sundays to croak things like, "It’s 3rd and 2. It’s really important that the Colts get a first down here."  Wow. Can I get a job, please?

So yeah, it was driving. Saturday was madness. Katie had a volleyball game down in  Yoder, IN, and yes there is such a place, and it’s not too far away – just a couple miles past the airport, which is south of us and south of town. It was tight because she had a piano lesson up at IPUIFW, and yes there is such a place, which is way north, at 1:45. The game was supposed to start at noon, but they didn’t get rolling until 12:35, and it’s really bad when, after the other team wins the first game, you’re rooting for them to also win the second game, so you can just get out of there. I had told Katie that we had to leave at 1:15 – the game still wasn’t over then, and I was feeling all guilty about pulling her when I realized, that hey, the coach hasn’t even put her in the game at all yet and probably isn’t going to… so yeah, hey, let’s go.

So then up to the home of the Mastadons (and yes, there is such a thing), grab lunch for everyone, dash into the IPFWUI (did I get that right) library to make copies of some reviews from the 1963 edition of Book Review Digest that I needed for work, sit in the parking lot with my laptop, trying to grab some wireless, because at that point I still hadn’t figured out that the problem was Verizon’s not mine, and I was trying to see if my computer was like, somehow broken, but before I could grab any wireless, Katie came dashing out to eat her Arby’s wrap in the way back down to our part of town where she was supposed to be in the dunk tank at the parish festival at 3 (it was 2:35). She was still in her volleyball uniform, so she threw a blanket over her head and changed clothes in the car. Of course she would have to run back home an hour later to change her clothes again because they were, of course, dunked (They put fish in the dunk tank! I was afraid I was going to crush them or something!), and then run (we’re talking literally this time – we live a half mile from church/school) back to do her volunteer stint at the festival in the late afternoon.

We (the children and I – Michael is out of town, which adds to my stress, not just because he’s gone, but because he’s got the good cel phone, and all I have is the emergency, prepaid thing) went to the festival which, I swear to heaven, gets worse every year…I know in someplaces they have good church festivals, but not in my neighborhood. Although maybe the good church festival takes on a life of its own that isn’t healthy either. Who knows. Joseph won some good stuff, especially from the fishing game because the girls who ran it knew that he was Katie’s little brother and attached especially good loot to the clothespin. He was charmed. Baby was mostly stunned.

Today, a bit more driving. To Mass up at St. Peter’s, our German parish, where my major task is no longer keeping Joseph in line (somehow two months’ maturity and going to Mass three times at school has done wonders.) but stuffing a sock in Michael’s mouth. "YAH YAH YAH. DAH DAH DAH. UH-OH. UH-OH. UH OH. PLLLFFFFFFT!" Isn’t it funny how babies discover echoes and resounding sounds in silent spaces? Isn’t it really, really funny? Hah.

We were going to go to the big old Johnny Appleseed Festival right after Mass, because I’m so clever and all, and I thought we could beat the crowds by going early – that is before noon. But because I’m so clever and all, I had actually left my purse at home (yeah, I know. No comment), plus the baby had consumed his whole bottle at Mass (the "stuffing a sock in it" part), so we had to return home, briefly, but we still made it up to the park before 11..to find it already packed. I mean, to the brim.

Well, like every festival around these parts, it’s the exact same thing – same booths, same artisans, same groups stirring up the same frontier food in big pots with big wooden spoons in exactly the same spots every year after year after year. Which is okay when you have children because they change year after year and Joseph, for example, was quite interested in watching the bowl-carver this year. And we did see some tatting, which I’d never seen before, and was rather amazed by. But as a whole, it’s very deja vu, and the crowds diminished the attraction considerably. So, after finding food that would please The Finicky (which ,  I assure you, was not ham and beans), we did some little kid things, saw some artisans, walked through the craft area (by which time Joseph was in the stroller, and the baby was being carried – faster that way), and were home before one. Then with a short break, it was off to take Katie to the movies. Etc.

Someday, I will get work done again. Better be pretty soon, considering my deadlines and obligations.

There are all kinds of glamorous people doing all kinds of glamorous things around the world, people with either no obligations or people who have enough money to pay off other people to take care of those obligations for them. Sometimes I think I would like to be in that position. But then I lie on my son’s bed, reading him a story, and then the baby comes up and I haul him up there, too, and they are clapping and playing the beginnings of a game with each other, and my daughter is laughing from the doorway, and I honestly, really, cannot think why anyone would prefer to spend their lives doing anything else but this.