Facing the weekend

Now, normally I don't like to share on my blog when my husband is out of town. Creepy McStalkerpants could be reading, after all. But I'm feeling pretty low right now and need to share, and since above-mentioned husband is out of town for fun rather than business for once, I don't want to make him feel guilty. He's been in Vegas since Wednesday for work stuff, but since the James Randi group's big annual meeting was this weekend I encouraged him to stay and attend. (They're a skeptic group, in case you don't know who James Randi is.) On his way back he'll be stopping in Chicago for another work meeting. So for the first time since the Far East trip, it's just me and the kids for the entire weekend. The good news: we have a birthday party to attend this weekend, plus the pool, plus maybe we'll go see the panda movie. The bad news: that will take up approximately 10 hours of the 48 hour weekend. I imagine we'll have to watch Camp Rock at least a couple of times--we're Tivo'ing it tonight--and I'm hoping we'll sleep at least part of the time. But I really miss my husband, and I can tell the kids do too. On the positive side, midnight tonight marks the beginning of the Summer of Socks. On Ravelry there is a group devoted to creating as many pairs of socks as possible over the summer, and I signed up. I don't imagine I'll make more than 5 or 6 pairs, at most, but I've got the yarn and patterns all organized for 14. Who knows, if the nights get long while we're at Camp Kinderland maybe I'll get more done than I expect. There will be bi-weekly drawings for prizes, a couple of other contests like "socks on vacation" where the contestants vote on the most original photo of socks on vacation, as well as a huge grand prize for the person who makes the most pairs. I'm not gunning for that one, but I will be enormously jealous of the one who gets it. I have a couple of pairs planned out for my husband, but the rest will be for me. Kid socks don't count, sadly. So please think of me this weekend and send me non-lonely vibes. Or better yet, drop by! Unless your name is Creepy McStalkerpants. I have sharp needles and I'm not afraid to poke you in the bellybutton with them.