Thursday, July 28, 2016

In which I am maudlin ... let's hope blogging this gets it out of my system.

So, last night I was feeling pitiful (gastronomically ... sorry, TMI) ... and, apparently my brain thought that I should feel pitiful mentally, too!

Misery loves company, right? *overly bright smile*

So, I'm lying in bed, next to Michael and ask ... "Do you think she misses me as much as I miss her?"
He is intuitive and knows that I'm asking about that bestie that ... well, she didn't give me the Cut Direct, since that would involve seeing me. But, yeah, she took herself out of my life without warning.

And ... even though one of the gals I Visit Teach told me, 'Why would you want to keep suffering? Even if she came back and asked to be friends again, why would you take her back?"

It's not that I'm masochistic (well, HOPEFULLY not) ... but, when her and my friendship started out, it was good. It was fun. I miss that.

I don't like that I don't feel as self-assured. I don't like that I lost someone who was so much fun to laugh with.

I mean, it'd be one thing if she had left my life, but I still had my friend K, who passed away, who was fun to laugh and bake with ... even though she and her family were going to move away at some point. I can keep a friendship going cross-country ... I had done it before. Heck, I manage to keep a friendship going across the planet. ... It's just a little harder to do it through the veil (They never call, they never write ...).

But, even though it's been a long while ... nearly a year ... I still feel that ... I ... I just don't feel right.
I feel lost. I feel full of doubt that I'm even a decent friend.

STUDIES SAY, so they say, that if a friendship lasts seven years, it'll be able to weather anything.

And I kind of hate that, too.

Because ... I feel like a crap person.
What kind of crappy person does a girl have to be that her bestie cuts all ties with her without a word? That moves back to the same town and never even texts?

... Going with that, I am a REALLY CRAPPY person.

And ... I don't want to be a really crappy person. I want to know how to have fun, how to not be filled with self-doubt.

And, as friends have pointed out, this now-gone-friend has changed.
And it was harder to be supportive for her ... so ... maybe she's done me a favor?

I don't know.

They say that time heals all wounds.
How do I stop picking at this scab?

Thursday, July 07, 2016

Still not dead yet!

Wow ... my last post was ... TWO WHOLE MONTHS AGO?!?

I mean, I knew it'd been a while ... but, wow. Okay.

Why haven't I blogged? Well, lazy covers it. That and I'm not the most exciting person.

I'd been reading more. Fell out of that. Caught up in Facebook games and life, I suppose.

Let's see ... what's the bullet list?

  • I turned 35. 
  • One of my friends got a place of her own and is moved in ... and out of her ex-husband's place. Thank goodness.
  • The big kids (Bruise and Bucket) finished fourth grade. They passed. ;)
    They had a great year, actually. They're looking forward to next school year.
  • We have been going around to a lot of places in town.
    Our city does a cute little scavenger-hunt-but-not activity during the summer.
    Kids of all ages can get a "passport" at the Visitors Association, then go to each of the places/events (like a couple local festivals) listed and get a stamp at each one. Then, bring your passport back at the end of the summer. Each stamp = 1 entry in a drawing for prizes.
    One year, Bucket won a gift certificate for the local paint-your-own-pottery place downtown. Last year, she won vouchers for the local bounce-house.
  • The kids have been watching more and more of the Studio Ghibli films (Kiki's Delivery Service, Howl's Moving Castle, My Neighbor Totoro) ... we just got Only Yesterday (FINALLY released in North America!) and Spirited Away is on its way to our door (that's my favorite one).
  • My stepdad's dementia is getting worse ... as it does. It's really stressful for my mom. And I don't really know what to do about it.
    My Nana finally got moved into the memory care place ... and she's liking it very much. I need to write her a letter ... and I've been putting it off. Like a jerk.
  • I've had some doozies of dreams. I don't remember much of them, really.
    In one, I had such bad head lice (but the kids were FIIIIIINE!!) that it looked like moving dandruff on my head from a distance. Gross.
    In last night's episode, there was a crazy drought AND zombie apocalypse ... and there was a dad living on an desert island with at least one daughter ... and he was wanting her to help him die so that she'd have food to outlast all the awful times ... Yeah, my brain is weird.
  • Got a few sunburns ... and maybe a heat rash on ONE arm. Now it just has these little pale bumps on it. I don't like it.
  • Michael and I went through and weeded out stuff we've already watched on our Netflix queue. I know, we're SO ADULTY.
  • Mom and I ordered a full box of Horrible Histories for the kids (and ME!) ... this way they'll be more ready to play Timeline (a tabletop game where you put historical events in order. It's fun. Unless you don't LIKE fun and/or history. Then may the angels weep for you ... because history is AWESOME! ... Remember, I grew up devouring the Little House on the Prairie books and Anne of Green Gables. I love me some historical fiction. I also love learning, because I feel that it makes me a more interesting person. When I don't learn something new, I feel BORING. And I don't like that. I want to be DAZZLING and full of SPARKLING bon mots!
  • We've been playing a lot of tabletop games. Betrayal at the House on the Hill is a favorite of this household. Forbidden Island is awesome (we need to also get Forbidden Desert). We've played a few versions of Timeline (We traded our copy of American History to Mom and Dad C, since that's the one that Mom C likes best. And she had accidentally ordered the Historical Events (world history) version, which she didn't like as much. So we traded. And we also ordered a new copy of the American History version. Since it's fun. And it helps the kids to learn, too. While having fun). ... Gloom is good. We have a couple versions of Fluxx. I splurged on Pandemic (and my mom actually liked that one, though we've yet to play an episode that we've actually won. lol.) ... Yeah, the family that plays together, stays together.
  • We've cleaned the house a lot. Especially the kids' bedroom. Oy and vey, let me tell you. But they're doing a lot better on it. 
  • The kids were grounded for just about forever ... tablet/honesty issues ... I keep hoping that we're past that. We'll see.

Okay, that's most of what all I can really remember to blog about. I mean, I did get to help chaperone their class field trip the last week of school ... and that was fun. I had a blast goofing off with some of the other moms. Good times, right?

We've gone to the pool a bit ... which is why I have gotten sunburns (well, that and a picnic lunch we had at a historical flour mill in the area).

Oh ... did I mention that I had cut off SO MUCH of my hair? I was TIRED of, when washing it, it feeling like STRAW and GROSS ... so almost all the colored bits are gone. It was a pixie cut ... it's growing out a lot, almost to a bob now. And I have a few blonde highlights left. I lost the last of the purple (it had faded to a whisper of lavender by the end). And I have nearly all virgin hair for the first time in DECADES. It's kind of weird. That and you can see, if you look closely, my greys at my temples (and in my eyebrows, if I don't pluck those).

But, yeah ... and I'm wearing a lot more leggings/jeggings. Even when you can see my dangly tummy through it. Because, dang it, I'm 35-friggin-years-old. I want to be comfortable.

So, yes, I'm crotchety in my old age. And in need of more naps. ^_^

Anything that I've left out?

Thursday, April 07, 2016

Ocean of Emotion

What have you missed since I last blogged?

Not a whole bunch. Me being lazy and reading a lot.
My mom getting the munchkin brigade to CLEAN THEIR ROOM.
Michael and I applied for our passports ... not that we have a trip planned yet or anything.
I cut my hair (it needed it. Now, instead of being between my shoulderblades, it's jaw-length. And, overall, it feels healthier).

Michael and I went to Chef's Night Out in Eugene.
I, of course, FREAKED OUT before heading down ...

  • What do I wear?
  • It's a stinking CHARITY EVENT (Don't get me wrong, I love philanthropy)!
    There will be men with their TROPHY WIVES there!
    I will bring shame upon Michael!Shame on his company! Shame on his cow!
    (He doesn't have a cow, you say? WELL, THERE'S THE ONE THAT I'M HAVING NOW!!)
  • What if I'm overdressed? What if I'm underdressed?
  • What if I have to TALK to people and I say something declasse? 
  • What if I spill my drink or food?!?
  • Do I look like I'm trying to hard?
  • ... Oh, hell. Fix the undereye makeup. Add some damn green liquid liner. It'll distract from the waves of fear and desperation you're giving off.
You think I'm kidding ... the plethora of rabidly-begging-for-input texts that I sent Michael and the tear-stains on our coverlet prove otherwise.

By the time I got down there (after wonderful C [who I Visit Teach] came to watch the kidlets came over, Bruise and Bucket arrived home from school, and I kissed everyone good-bye), after some en-route car karaoke, I was better-prepared mentally to deal with ... people.

I should say that I DO like people. Dealt with in small groups, I'm FIIIIINE.
But, well, when I don't know them and I'm not performing as someone else and when I feel fat and I'm on my period and there are angry bees that hate me in my head ... I'm ... vulnerable and more than a little sick-in-the-head.

Just keeping it real for you all.

I mean, usually, I can accept that, yes, there's more of me to love than average. I've got curves that won't quit. I love food ... and don't love to exercise. Or sweat, actually. Give me a book, a BLT, a rainy day, and a cuppa rooibos chai ... I'm a happy camper.

Put me into a social situation that involves dressing up more than in a jersey knit ... with strangers ... who have money (our tickets were given to Michael's company since they worked on an awesome project to combat hunger) ... and, well, I go into crisis-social-mode, obvs.

Good times, good times.
Once we GOT there ... and the pre-event schmoozing was over (so I didn't have to pretend like I knew what I was doing there), I could be proactive and go on the hunt for sampling bazillions of yummy things (I'm not that into chicken livers or pork pate. Good to know. But, DANG SON, I found some Ginger Lemonade that I can buy over at Market of Choice ... now I have TWO go-to drinks there [The other is the Rose Lemonade that you can pry from my COLD. DEAD. HANDS. ... though I also like the Dry Sodas -- esp. Lavender, Rhubarb, and Blood Orange.]).

Michael and I practically ate ourselves sick ... but there were SO many things to try ... and we hadn't even tried them all. And we didn't have seconds of anything!
(The Wild Duck cafe's Beer-Cheese soup? Yum. And there was a cantaloupe salsa with avocado. And a roasted-carrot chicken curry. And a rosewater panna cotta. And a sweet potato cobbler with lavender-caramel sauce ... and more ... and it was all really good).

See ... social events = STRESSFUL.
Food events = GOOD.
So, once it changed to a FOOD EVENT, I was good. No more stressful than getting lunch at the county fair, right?
(OH gosh, I sound like some antisocial bumpkin ... probably because I am rather a somewhat-antisocial bumpkin.)

Also, my Nana has been moved into an assisted-care home. With her dementia, it had to happen.
But, still ... I ...

I'm supposed to write her a letter every couple of weeks ... because I know that I want to keep in touch with her. And she can't hear well enough over the phone. And she doesn't have a computer, let alone know how to email or anything.  ... But ... it's tough. I don't always say how I feel. Because I don't want to be all "Hey, Nana. Your dementia makes me mad. I love you. But dementia sucks. And I know that it has to be worse for you. But it's sad. And it makes me feel like I've lost you and am mourning you before you have died. Because it's like part of your IS dying NOW. And I hate that. And it makes me feel selfish that I'm griping about the fact that I still HAVE you and I CAN visit you ... and it's not the same. ... Even if I could visit, which I try to when we can ... there's a part of me that wants to break down and cry about your state of being you-but-not and I just want to go back about 18 years to when I could walk with my dad down to your house and you'd feed Sarah, David, and me strawberries-fresh-from-the-garden with a splash of cream and a heaping spoonful of sugar. And Sarah and I would dress up in your costume jewelry and nightgowns and feel so grown up and we'd go and "help" Pop-pop mow Mrs. Weatherbee's field and tramp about in the garden and everything. I miss the smell of the attic at your old house back home. I miss riding in the backseat of your peach-colored Chrysler. I buy Freedent gum to keep in my purse because that's what you always had. And coffee candy. Even though it makes me feel like the most rebellious Mormon girl. Because these things remind me of being a little girl at your house during summer afternoons. And I was so very content then, without grown-up responsibilities ... and I really miss that. I really miss you. And I HATE that dementia has taken you away from us ... from me ... before death has. Because it makes me mad. And it makes me sad. And it makes me feel powerless and vulnerable and ineffective. Because I have NO IDEA how to fix this or what to do... I mean, I GET that I need to rely on the Lord and all. But it's not the easiest thing to do all the time. And I'll be walking in a store or in the library and I'll be hit by this WAVE of GRIEF, hard enough that I find myself breathless, reeling in its wake ... and I ... I ... I just don't know what to do.  And I don't like that. And I don't know if it will be any easier when you're fully gone or if I'll just feel more guilty for not knowing how to appreciate you more while you are here. I love our visits, even if you are more and more childlike each time I see you ... I'll admit, though, that after I get into the car to go, I mostly just want to curl up into a ball in a corner somewhere or lose myself in a story ... because I don't know how to handle losing you more and more. And that makes me feel selfish. And guilty. ... But I'm glad that you ARE around. That Bruise, Bucket, and Bubbles get this chance to know you here, as their great-grandmother. That they are able to witness your love for and fondness of them. That they're able to catch some time with you. I barely knew any of my great-grandparents ... so I know how lucky they are. I think I'm mostly just mad that, even though I've got my heels dug and and am shrieking for you not to go, that the dementia keeps dragging you away, piece by piece, until I'm grasping at the grains of sand running through my fingers as those grief-waves wash over me, leaving me soaked and chilled and frustrated-to-tears by my ineffectiveness. But I love you. And I want you to know that one fact. If you know nothing else, I just want you to remember, to KNOW, that we love you."


I mean, I could write that to her. It'd be honest. And one reason I don't like the letters/cards that I send to her is because they seem disingenuous ... all prattling on about how we love her (true) and what the kids are doing (true) and that we're fine (true) and we miss her (all too true) ... but that elephant is in the room and I am averting my eyes from its presence. And that feels dishonest. But it doesn't feel proper/kind/whatever to bring it up -- "I hate dementia. Dementia sucks. Dementia is ... I don't know what it is, but I don't like it." ... even if I did say those (true) things ... it might upset Nana more than it'd change anything else. So ... well, I don't see the point of doing it. 

I don't really know of anything else I ... strike that. I can report that Michael and I have now been married 15 years and ... some-odd days. I'm refusing to math right now.
And we went to the coast and ate good food and bought clothes.
I now have a rainjacket that fits me. And has a hood.
Michael got some new slacks, shirts, and ties.
We ate Monte Cristos at Gracie's Sea Hag ... and they were worth the wait and the effort!
We also went to Ripley's Believe it or Not ... just like on our honeymoon (but it was MUCH better weather this time).

And, I had signed up to sub for a Relief Society Lesson.
I figured that, hey, I'm teaching Sunday School ... why not just add on another lesson, right?
Originally, it was for March 6 - Joseph Smith.
Then it was bumped to March 13 - The Atonement and Resurrection of Jesus Christ. Okay.
THEN it was rescheduled to be the Teaching for Our Times Lesson - "Strengthened Through His Atonement" by Dallin H. Oaks.
And, did I mention that it was Easter Sunday? The Sunday that our Ward choir was performing in Sacrament meeting?
Yeah, no biggie, right?

Well, I crammed. A LOT. I'd been studying multiple talks by apostles and people (all the ones that Elder Oaks referred to in his talk. And a few more. Because WHY NOT?) ... including an excerpt from Lighten Up by Chieko Okazaki.

Well, I referred to the outline I wrote. The classroom clock wasn't working. My phone (with its clock) was in my purse. Along with the tissues that I really needed.
But the sisters all participated in the discussion.
People said that it was good.
I survived.
And I'm glad that it's over.
But it felt like it went well.

And I was VERY tired that evening.

And THAT's really, as far as I can tell, all I really have to report. 
Now, I should write that letter to my Nana.

Monday, March 14, 2016

My Dreams ... as I've just bleared awake

I remember having two dreams.

In one, we needed to stay somewhere ... and I found a recommendation for a hotel from extended family.

And, well, it was a VERY nice hotel. Like there was a full kitchen (with red enameled appliances -- like the fridge and a european-styled gas range, etc, etc.) and lovely carpeting.

And we needed to go on a trip. But we also had some other family there, who needed the cars so THEY could get around.
We would have all been able to fit them into the cars, except they had brought two friends, so with children and carseats, there wasn't room. So we were going to rent a motorcycle. And I said that there were three of us in the family, then amended that to four, since we needed to rent a child-sized helmet for Bubbles for the motorcycle (which had little partitions built into the seat, rather like in some rollercoasters).

And there was a dog that was sitting on some supplies behind the desk...

No, there was a third dream that came in the middle.

I was a spy? or something. But I was sneaking about, trying to look totally harmless and NOT suspicious. And I was a lot younger and thinner. And I was attempting to do my job with food poisoning, so I'm trying to evade the Secret Service while SEARCHING for the bathrooms ... which were lovely bathrooms, by the by.

And I was then trying to creep through a farm-animal building, like at the county fairs, and (accurately) blame the murder on the donkey (by donning multiple disguises and testifying to the police at each opportunity that, no, the donkey did it.
(At one point, I dressed up as a little boy, like Gary Coleman. I was very convincing. They suspected nothing.)

Then I dreamed that I woke up to my Bret-bro (one of my friends from high school. We adopted each other.) calling me. And I'm trying to blear awake enough to be coherent on the phone. And then, dressed all in black, Michael is back from work, since his back is hurting so badly ... and I'm trying to do acupressure on his back while still blearing awake and chatting with Bret. (I wasn't doing a very good job).

I was a little surprised to find myself waking up.
But rather glad that we don't have to pay the bill for the very nice hotel. I don't think we could have afforded it.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is a glimpse into my subconscious.

Sunday, March 13, 2016

My kids are often cute. This is one of those times.

So, one of Bruise and Bucket's Primary leaders told me about their actions in Primary today.

Bruise was asked "Who is your favorite prophet?"

Bruise: "That's really hard to decide. I have two of them."
"Well, can you tell us which ones those are?"
Bruise: "Thomas S. Monson and Captain Moroni."
"Why are they your favorites?"
Bruise: "I really like President Monson's stories."

Later, Bucket was chosen to pop a balloon.


Zoƫ: (to leader) " ... Can I just have a pin?"

Yeah, my kids are funny ... for the most part. And cute.

Friday, March 11, 2016

Titles are for ... well ... people who can think them up (i.e., not me)

Okay ... Bubbles is now four. We're working on doing some pre-school stuff with her.

She actually seems pretty strong at math for a girl who counts "eleven, twelve, firrteen, sixteen, nineteen, twenty."
(Really, she's got a grip on addition and subtraction that I was surprised by. ... Note to self: Just because one is less-than-totally-confident with math, that does not by any means extend to one's offspring.)

The internet is still mostly working.
So the Bluray player had issues (the tray wouldn't open. Or, when manually pried open [GENTLY], recognize that it WAS open.
So we had to buy a new one.
Which, after we get a new Bluray/receiver for the front room and a new TV for the bedroom, will move to the bedroom. Yay for Netflix for Mommy folding laundry while the kids play in the front room!
Or Netflix for the kids in the bedroom while Mommy watches movies with friends in the front room!

But that's a ways into the future.

And now, as of this morning, the deadbolt on the front door isn't working. Won't retract. So that door is stuck locked.
Good thing the back door works!
(Makes me rather wish that our house was like my mom's ... with two main doors and an escape possible with another door in the laundry room!)

Okay. Enough for now.

Wednesday, March 02, 2016

The last month (well, nearly, since February DOES have fewer days so it's not been a FULL month ... mostly)

For about the last month, we had been having internet issues.

Mostly with the wifi, which I love to pronounce as "wiffy" because, well, why not?
It's one of my charming peculiarities. Like how I refer to "The Google."

The internet is FIXED.
It took three tech visits, hours on the phone, and a lot of frustration ... but we can stream Netflix again without any issues. Phew!

(Turns out that either Steam, that gaming program thing, eats up a lot of the connection OR those suspicious files that have gone into quarantine were messing with things OR a mix of both.)

Either way, our Phone/Internet tech guy and Michael and I were able to FIX THIS PUPPY and I can feel relieved.

I also, during this month, learned how to use the printer to print on POST-ITS, y'all. This is kind of amazeballs.

Last weekend, Michael got fed up enough by the state of the house and how no one was cleaning up and had me take the kids out of the house, he was that frustrated.
So, instead of treating them to (1) the Dr. Seuss activity at the mall or (2) free movie at the YMCA later, we drove around. Then we parked at a park (no playset) and we talked. And talked. And TALKED some more.
I did most of the talking.
  • Why participating in housework is important. 
  • How it influences how we feel
  • How it influences if the Holy Ghost can be here in our home
  • What benefits it has (e.g., we can do fun things instead of having to stay home and clean the house, Mommy and Daddy are happier, you can find things more easily, ...)
After about an hour, maybe (I don't remember. We just REALLY had to pee by that point), we came home and worked some more on the house.

The living room/family room/dining room looked really nice. It hasn't, alas, stayed nearly that nice. But it's still WAY better than how it was last Saturday morning.

Bruise had his last Cub Scout Blue and Gold banquet to which he needed to bring a cake for the auction. We did two dozen brownie-batter chocolate-chip cupcakes with chocolate-fudge frosting, star sprinkles, and marshmallow fondant toppers.
They looked pretty amazing ... we ended up buying them back ourselves so that Bruise could earn over $100 for Cub Scout Day Camp.
They were tasty, for sure.

We went, almost last-minute, to WizardCon in Portland. We saw, from a distance, William Shatner, John Barrowman, Jewel Staite, and a few other actors.
The kids were more interested in buying souvenirs.
Bruise bought the 10th Doctor's Sonic Screwdriver. Bucket got a blue stuffed Dalek that clips to her bag. When you squeeze it, it talks. Bubbles got a stuffed Pikachu toy.
Besides the free swag (AWESOME Dark Horse Comics reusable tote), I invested in some new nail polish (I was hoping that Dark Horse would have a stall again ... and I could buy the graphic novel of Dollhouse, maybe.) from Lucky13 Lacquer.
I bought "Ride Eternal Shiny and Chrome," "Dance Magic Dance." and "Always." And then, afterwards, I looked them up online ... and ended up buying MORE colors. Which arrived today.
I bought one of the destash colors (Sinful Colors brand ... they referred to it as "Tardis Blue") for $0.50. I paid full-price for "Valkyrie." And I picked up two of their clearance colors: "A Little More Sonic" and "I Will Burn the Heart Out of You."

And, yes, there are still some other colors that I'm longing for: "Wibbly Wobbly Timey Wimey," "Life Is Short and You Are Hot," "Soooo Changeable," "Come at Once If Convenient," "If Inconvenient, Come All the Same."

Yes, I am a nail polish addict. And, right now I'm rocking some cute (chipping) nails.
If you're curious, I have Dance Magic Dance or Always over Orly "Liquid Vinyl," so they look either DARK teal or red-purple. It's pretty fun. And, since (1) my nails are chipping AND (2) my new polishes arrived, I think I'll be painting my nails again soon.

Okay. The big kids are getting home soon. Not like I've really done anything except blog about polishes and ordered a birthday cake for Miss Bubbles. And we did storytime, where I got to help another mom with the Origami project we were doing. And playing some Alpaca World and Neko Atsume. Yes, my life is very full.

And laundry! I'm working on laundry! And dishes! And I should vacuum! And read books!

... and play with my pretty, pretty polishes.

On the eve of your fourth birthday ...

Miss Bubbles,

You are getting to be so big! "Big and STRONG!" as you proudly pronounce as you reach as high as you can.

You can be such a wonderful helper. You're full of curiosity and sporting a strong drive for independence.

You're learning manners. You tend to play shy around most adults. You are outgoing with other children ... though, sometimes, you do tend to try to lead them more than they might like.

Your hair has stayed curly. Your eyes have stayed blue. You are working at quitting sucking your thumb. You barely have any accidents. You want to read the scriptures yourself.

You are making up your own jokes.
My favorite so far: "I want to give a goldfish to someone! To DEADPOOL!"

(I, too, am very sad that the Deadpool movie is VERY deserving of the R-rating. I wanted to see it, too. And it would have been tons funnier if he'd been just as censored [black bars, bleeps, and all] as in the comics ... Not that I totally know HOW you know who Deadpool is ... but, still).

You come and snuggle me.
You like to help me cook. Especially if we're making cookies or cakes.
You help Bruise and Bucket with emptying the dishwasher ... though we need to work on putting the silverware away in the correct places and not just flinging it all in there and jetting away.
Though, to be honest, I admire the passion you display.

You love animals.
You practice empathy ... mostly. (But I'll cut you some slack. Until tomorrow, you're still three.)
You love to sing and dance.
You love to jump, jump, jump.
You've learned to love video games already,

Your favorite colors are pink and purple.
You love bunnies best, but are expanding your adoration to hippos, cheetahs, and other animals.
You adore bathtime. You'd take multiple baths a day if I'd let you.

You're still daintily-sized ... I find it easy to carry you as we go about places, as needed. Depending on what else I'm lugging along. But, for the most part, I can carry you from the parking lot into the store, especially if the weather's bad.

You're learning so many words and how to use them well.
Sometimes you impress me with your growing vocabulary.
(I'm just glad that you don't shock me with it.)

Happy day-before-your birthday, my little smushy-face munchkin-girl.
I love you.

Counting ...

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