asked to the cute ten-year-old boy attending folk dance camp
Question: Are you having a good time?
Answer: It's okay. It's better than boy scouts.
Um, what isn't?
Question: Are you having a good time?
Answer: It's okay. It's better than boy scouts.
Um, what isn't?
This weekend we went up to my sister's house for a birthday party for my niece. In the morning we played in the yard. I consider my sister (both of my sister's actually) a perfect example of good parenting. She lets her children be themselves, take risks, and play hard.The birthday celebration happened over lunch. My niece had specifically requested a chocolate ladybug cake, and I couldn't let her down. This was not only my first time using fondant, I decided to make it even more exciting by making the fondant on my own. Good times. It certainly was an evening of learning experiences, but the fondant was surprisingly easy to adapt to.
We spent this week eating only fruits and vegetables (plus yogurt, whole wheat bread, and soy milk) just, you know, because we felt like it. We had been watching Take Home Chef and one of the husbands mentioned that he was excited about his dinner because he had been eating only vegetables that week. Or something like that. I turned to Somebody and said, "Hey, only fruits and veggies? What would that be like?" And, you know, there's only one way to know what that would be like.
Day 1: I am hungry all day. This eating plan sucks. Who thought this was a good idea?
Day 2: I love blueberries. And this bread rocks. Go me! I am not hungry at all.
Day 3: There is no way I can eat all this food!
Day 4: This is not a bad way to live. We could definitely be fitting more fruits and veggies into our normal meals. But, adding a little meat and other items wouldn't be bad, either. How about for dinner? Bring it on.
Today we say good-bye to the kittens. You're sad you didn't come by to see them, aren't you?
A relative of a friend is organizing a fund raiser carnival at an elementary school in Salt Lake, and she wants to have the kittens there, all dressed up with little bows, as prizes in a raffle. A raffle? I’m letting my kitties go in a raffle? Yes, yes I am. So many things would be better than a life in my sister’s laundry room, and I’m optimistic that the only people who will participate in the raffle will actually want a kitten. That the people will take a kitten home, give it lots of attention, play Pounce On My Hand And Bite Me with the kitten, and just love it.
Although frustrating at times, (George, why must you poop on the carpet? Must you meow that loud in my face all the time? Must you always be petted if someone else is being petted? Melanie, I know you love me, but please remove your claws of death from my wrist. Pierre, are you a little crazy in the head, or do you jump at my legs, realize they are my legs, bound away in terror, and then run at me again as a little game called Psycho Cat? The Other One, you are huge! Are you eating all the food and not sharing?) they are so cute when they calm down and just want to sleep in a heap on our laps, or shoulders, or feet, or wherever we will let them stay. Too cute. I will miss the little terrors. From now on I’ll have to count on Somebody to purr when I scratch him under the neck. We’ll see how that goes.
Farewell, little friends. We loved you the best way we knew how.
My favorite summer show, So You Think You Can Dance, is getting underway. Last night they announced their Top 20—the kids who will compete for the title of America’s Best Dancer. Sounds impressive, doesn’t in? You know you kind of want to watch.
But I digress. The real reason for the entry was to publicly announce my dislike for Lacey Schwimmer. Man, oh, man, I wish I could find a photo of Lacey’s outfit from last night. She should have been sent home just for the pain she brought to American by wearing a t-shirt screen-printed with suspenders, and a zombie-inspired, ragged tulle tutu. And don’t even get me started on her makeup! As much as I loved Benji last season, I out loud hoped she wouldn’t make the top 20.
This is a shout out (in the way of mostly gratitude) to the ex-boyfriends. Why? I have no idea. It just seemed like something that I needed to say.
Dear Earl,
I didn’t treat you very well. Being the first college boyfriend is always hard, and I’m sorry I was immature and didn’t take you seriously. Thank you for knowing that girls like flowers, and I hope you still buy them for your wife.
I was a bad letter writer, and I wrote you off for someone far less deserving. Thank you for still being willing to see me when you got back.
When you got married you emailed me to say that you probably shouldn’t continue our correspondence because you wanted to focus on your wife, but that you were glad that in the end we had ended up being real friends. I agree, and I think you are a good man and a good husband for wanting to be completely faithful to your wife. She will appreciate that trust and support. Sometimes I wonder where you two ended up, and if you speak Spanish in your home, and if we moved into the same town if we could be married friends.
Love,
Jennifer
Dear Ron,
For so long I thought I was broken. That you had broken me and there was no glue in the world that could piece me back together. Shame on you for blaming me for your sins and errors; for believing that it was my imperfections that made you unhappy when really it was your own weakness that tore us apart. I would have married you, and I would never have known real confidence or happiness.
Thank you for moving on so quickly. It spared me the ability to sit around and pine for your and for the horrible relationship that we no longer had. I learned how to be alone.
Did you tell your wife? Does she know about the pit?
Love,
Jennifer
Dear Brett,
We never had an established relationship, so I hope you don’t mind that I’m including you here. What we had, though, at least to me, was the most healthy relationship of my twenty-something years.
Thank you for homemade vegetable soup, road trips to Zions, early morning rides to work, and basically being an incredible, solid shoulder to cry on when my world was turned upside down. Thank you for acting like a man so that I would recognize real men later.
Love,
Jennifer
Dear Somebody,
Thank you for being available when I needed a friend there. Thank you for being willing to talk about your timeline, even though you knew it was going to freak me out. And then, when I was fully on board with your timeline, and you started pretending like I was making things up, thank you for sticking around and following it. See, sometimes it really is all about you.
Thank you for asking me in the car, and then at the store, and then in the home that became our home. Thank you for picking out the best jewelry, looking so good in cheap jeans, always washing the dishes, and being the first to say sorry. I would say it more, but, clearly, I’m usually all busy crying and denying anything is wrong. And busy making cookies, which, by the way, thank you for saying that they were the best you’d ever had even though you hadn’t had that kind before and don’t even like cookies.
Thank you for being so delighted that I’m opinionated. Thank you for getting so used to saying sweet things. I would love for my full-time job to be following you around and saying sweet things right back at you, because I don’t think I would ever run out of things to say.
All My Love, Forever,
Jennifer