Queen City wedding

This past weekend, we drove to Charlotte for my cousin Renee’s wedding. We set off on Friday, with my parents in one car, and me, Chris, and the girls following in my car.

Charlotte is only about 150 miles from here, but we let my dad be in charge of the GPS, which in hindsight was the worst idea ever. He found the shortest route, and as most people know (but my dad didn’t), shortest does not always equal fastest. So, a trip that should have taken 2.5 hours (give or take) ended up taking well over 4 hours, because he had us go down some random back highway with a speed limit of 45, and frequent stop signs. (“It’s 30 miles less if we go this way!” Well, yeah, but the alternate route lets us go 70 mph with no stops, so…)

And really, the kids were SO GOOD the whole time — they didn’t fight, they played quietly, they didn’t whine — but it stressed me out to be in the middle of nowhere, doing the toddler potty math of “oh god, how long do I have before Lucy says she needs to pee and there is NOWHERE out here to stop?!” (Parents of 3 year-olds, you know what I’m talking about.)

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Eventually we got there, and we saw the house that my brother and his girlfriend moved into a few months ago, which was lovely. My parents stayed with my brother & his girlfriend at their place. I booked a hotel for me, Chris, and the girls, since that seemed like a lot to unload on my brother. It would’ve been even more fun if we could have brought Chris’s kids along too, but unfortunately it didn’t work out with their custody schedule.

After visiting with my brother for a while, we headed over to our hotel, checked in, and met up with our extended family who was in town for the wedding.

5 out of 7 (my mom's siblings)

I was trying to explain to my kids how Mimi (my mom) is one of 7 kids, so she has 2 sisters, and 4 brothers. (This pic is 5 of the 7 – it’s missing my mom & my uncle Brian.) Catie took a minute to process this, then said, “We aren’t going to have 5 more babies, are we?”

Which, HAHAHAHAAAAA NOPE. No, sweetie, we most definitely are not. I think I’m good with just the two.

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There was a little dessert reception thing at the hotel for out-of-town guests – not exactly a rehearsal dinner, but sort of a pre-wedding get together. That was a lot of fun, and the kids spent most of the time playing with their cousins, doing cartwheels in the hallway outside of the banquet hall.

It took the girls a while to get settled at our hotel room that night and crash.

It's way past bedtime, but we're out of town, & they've both been so good all day. I don't have the heart to make them stop when they're playing quietly next to each other.

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The next day, we got up, saw my sister for a few minutes (she got in late Friday night and the girls were dying to see her), then had breakfast with my cousin Cat (not the bride, a different cousin) & her family. Then we went to my brother’s house to gather up our people and head to the wedding.

I realized after the wedding was over that I had one picture of both of my girls all dressed up for the wedding, in their dresses that my mom made. (Having a Mimi who’s a retired seamstress has its perks.)

Realized I have exactly 1 picture of my girls dressed up for my cousin's wedding yesterday. Catie was mad about having her picture taken, and Lucy was... being Lucy.

Catie was mad that I was trying to take her picture. Lucy was… well, being Lucy. That picture cracks me up to the point where I’m thinking about framing it, because it sums them up perfectly.

waiting for the wedding to start with Mimi & Pop-Pop
Waiting for the wedding to start.

Catie wanted to sit with her cousin Elizabeth, and I wish it wasn’t disrespectful to take pictures in church, because the way they either sweetly held hands or had their arms around each other was completely adorable. They locked their fingers together during the prayer. It was amazing.

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The reception was at a museum in downtown Charlotte, and it was gorgeous. So was the bride, for that matter.

So my cousin is pretty much the most beautiful bride ever. And i love seeing her so happy.

It really makes me so happy to see Renee so happy.

We goofed around at the beginning of the reception. We ate yummy food, and Catie took this picture of me and Chris that I love.

My cousin's wedding reception, Catie took this pic & I love it.

Then the band started, and we danced like crazy people.

Lucy & Mimi dancing at the reception

I feel bad for not taking more pictures than I did. Like, I didn’t get any of my siblings, or most of my relatives who were there. But I was just… there. And sometimes I think it’s a good thing to put down my phone and go enjoy the moment, rather than worry about documenting every single second with a photo.

And I mean, I danced so much that by the time we got back to the hotel room, my legs were more sore than they feel after a 5 mile run. So I’d say I enjoyed the hell out of that moment.

At the risk of sounding corny, I feel like I’m just so incredibly fortunate to have the family that I have. They’re a group of people who I genuinely enjoy being around, and I always have so much fun with them. We don’t see each other as much as I wish we could, because we’ve spread out all over the U.S., but weddings & other reunions are always so much fun.

And lucky me, I have another cousin who’s getting married next spring, so I have that to look forward to, in just a few months. I already can’t wait.

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We drove back on Sunday, and got back later than planned, but it turned out ok. Catie really wanted to see Dave, and we’re trying to make sure she gets one-on-one time with each of us when we can swing it. So I dropped her off with him, and Lucy and I hung out for the evening. Even though three year-olds are difficult, having only one kid feels so easy compared to juggling them both.

We went for a walk, just the two of us, and she insisted she needed to bring her baby (and her baby’s diaper bag) along.

taking her baby for a walk

Then she discovered that crunching leaves is pretty much the most fun thing ever.

leaf crunching

And you know, there are times that I worry that I’m a terrible parent and I’m going to ruin my kids somehow. Nothing in particular makes me think that, it’s just that constant self-doubt that I think most parents probably have from time to time. But then, I’ll have a moment where I see them completely carefree and happy, and I think… yeah, we’re probably going to be ok.

After all, I have a whole family full of amazing role models to use as a point of reference.

outrunning fate

I don’t remember how old my mom was when she started having back problems. I guess it started when I was a teenager, but I’m fuzzy on the details.

I remember when I was in college and she called to tell me that she’d been diagnosed with scoliosis. She said she was afraid she might end up in a wheelchair, and she cried. I vividly remember standing in the bedroom of my apartment in Memphis, and feeling completely helpless, because my mom was 200 miles away, and all I wanted was to give her a hug.

Fast-forward nearly 20 years. My mom isn’t in a wheelchair, but her scoliosis has progressed, and she’s in pretty much constant pain. She uses a back brace, her back is hunched, and she has to wear a patch that gives her a low, steady dose of constant narcotic painkillers. She sees an acupuncturist regularly, which seems to help give her some occasional relief. But it’s a pretty awful way to live.

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I think I’ve mentioned here plenty of times that I was very overweight when I was young. When I was in high school, I used to go for walks at night after dinner, for exercise. (That’s the thing about Mississippi – most of the year, it’s so hot that it’s only bearable to go outside after it gets dark.) I’d usually walk 2 or 3 miles a night.

A lot of times when I went for walks, one of my parents would go with me. If it was my mom who came along, she’d complain a lot of the way that she didn’t want to go, even though she knew she needed to. She hated to exercise. (My dad never complained. He’s a golfer, walking a couple miles is nothing when you’re used to walking 18 holes.) Sometimes I’d egg my mom on to keep going, sometimes she’d take a shortcut back home rather than finish the whole route.

That’s not an indictment of my mom’s character. Plenty of people don’t enjoy exercising. I don’t think that it makes you a good or bad person one way or the other. She didn’t like to exercise, so she didn’t do it much. That’s all.

I don’t know if any of my mom’s health issues would’ve been helped if she had exercised more. Maybe if she’d had stronger core muscles, it would’ve helped to support her spine, and she wouldn’t be in as much pain now. I honestly don’t know.

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My mom and I have a lot in common. If you look at pictures of her when she was younger, we look a lot alike.

1970 - My parents with Tracy
My parents in 1970 with my sister Tracy.
Side note: my mom thought she was hideously fat when this picture was taken. If there’s any question where I get my ridiculous body dysmorphia, there you go.

For the past year and a half or so, I’ve been pretty obsessive about exercise. I workout 5 days a week on average. I mostly run, although I’ll occasionally do a Jillian Michaels DVD (like the 30 Day Shred or one of those) just to mix it up and make sure I get some strength training, too.

It’s occurred to me that part of the reason exercise has become so important to me is because I’m afraid of ending up like my mom. I don’t know if I’m prone to the same health problems that she has, but I know that I absolutely do not want to end up in constant pain like she is. I don’t want to live like that.

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When I started running, my goal was to be able to run a 5K (3.1 miles). I hit that goal a couple of months ago. Now I’ve shifted it, and my goal is to be able to run 5 miles before Christmas. I don’t know where I came up with that number or why it feels significant. I guess it’s because until recently, it’s not something I ever thought I’d be able to do, and now it feels attainable.

A lot of my runner friends have encouraged me to do a race of some kind. Lord knows there’s plenty of options out there: 5Ks, 10Ks, full marathons, half marathons, whatever. I understand that a lot of people use them as a timeline for achieving a specific goal, and others just think races are fun. But I don’t want to do a race. I never run with other people. I don’t even run with Chris – although that’s mainly because he runs so much faster than me, he’d leave me in the dust in the first five minutes. Hell, I don’t even like passing people on the sidewalk of my street. So the idea of running with hundreds of other people makes me nervous. The thing I like about running is being able to zone out in my own head. The only person I’m competing with out there is myself.

(For what it’s worth, running also helps tremendously with my anxiety. I’ve had days where I wake up feeling shaky and panicky for no reason other than some stupid hormonal shift. If I’m running, I feel like it’s ok that my heart feels like it’s going to pound out of my chest and that I’m gasping for breath, because oh yeah, I’m running. It burns off that whole “fight or flight” thing, and by the time I get home, I’m calmer and the panicky feeling has passed. For that alone, I cannot recommend it enough.)

I don’t know what the end goal is with all this exercising that I’m doing. I don’t have any specific weight loss goal, because I’m pretty much ok with where I am now. (Although I wouldn’t mind toning up some places. I’m looking at you, upper arm flab.) I guess when I hit that “I can run 5 miles” goal, I’ll shift it out more and figure out what’s next.

The thing is, as I find myself barreling down on my 40th birthday (which, ok, that’s still a year and a half from now), and that whole “middle age” notion creeps in, my health is becoming more and more important. I feel like I need to make myself as strong as possible now, so I’ll be prepared for whatever physical challenges my body may face in the future.

So if you ever happened to wonder why I run? That’s why.

mommy’s weekends

Dave and I alternate weekends with the kids. Having the free time has been nice (and every other weekend when the kids are with him? I sleep as late as I want and it is GLORIOUS), but it’s also been hard for me to adjust to not having the girls with me as much.

I try to make sure we always do something fun for them on my weekends. Two weekends ago, we went to the beach. Before that, it was 4th of July weekend and we hung out with family and went swimming.

This past Saturday night, we went to see The Little Mermaid onstage. Chris’s cousin works at the theater downtown where they were showing it, so she got us early, discounted tickets.

About to go see The Little Mermaid on stage with my girls.
Before the show. Also? Hey, 2 inches of roots. Time to get my highlights re-done, obviously.

Chris had his kids that night, so we all went together, which was a little crazy with 4 kids all going in different directions. But the kids get along really well together, and the show was just fantastic.

Oddly enough, Lucy – the child who was the most excited about going to see the show (because she is a huge fan of anything that involves princesses) – was the one who had the hardest time watching it. She was a wiggle-worm and wanted to sit on Chris’s lap, then on my lap, then back on Chris’s lap… never in her own actual seat, of course. I mean, she’s only 3. The older kids have the attention span to sit still and watch the show, at least more than she does. But she wasn’t the only kid who was squirmy and moving around a lot, so I didn’t worry about it too much. She was quiet, at least.

The show started at 7:30, and didn’t end until 10:00 p.m. It was way past the kids’ bedtimes, but we figured hey, we’re already out this late, and Krispy Kreme’s flagship store downtown was just a few blocks away…

I mean, really. If you're downtown long past bedtime anyway, you might as well.

She insisted on a pink donut. To match her dress. And her manicure.

Both Catie and Lucy fell asleep in the car on the way home. I carried Lucy in, took off her shoes, and put her in the bed, fancy tutu dress and all. Catie woke up enough to walk in the house, change out of her jeans and into her PJ shorts, then she crawled into the bed and crashed. Both kids slept until 9 the next morning, which is basically unheard of.

Well, actually, scratch that – Lucy woke up at 5 a.m. and came into my room crying, “I don’t wanna wear this!!” about her fancy dress. I guess she was confused when she woke up, poor kid. I changed her into her PJs and put her back in the bed, and she was out.

(I also stripped the beds and washed the sheets on Sunday, because the kids had been pretty filthy when they went to bed, and we were due for a laundry day anyway.)

On Sunday, we dropped Lucy with my parents for a while (getting the grandparents all to herself is pretty much Lucy’s Most Favorite Thing Ever), and Chris and I took Catie to a game store that was hosting a Pokemon tournament. She’s been into Pokemon for a while, but she doesn’t really know how to play the card game. My parents gave her some money to buy some more cards (she already had some, but not enough to make a deck that you can play the game with – don’t ask me, I don’t really get how this works). We met some really sweet kids there who were willing to play with her and help teach her the rules, and she had a blast.

Funny aside: there was a little girl there named Katie, who was maybe 11 or 12 years old. She had purple glasses, long blonde hair, braces, wearing sneakers and a Pikachu t-shirt… It just kind of hit me that this was probably my Catie’s future. Which is fine, because the girl was so sweet (albeit in the awkward pre-teen years), it just struck me that, yeah, I can totally see Catie being just like that in a few years.

Catie learned a lot about how to play the game, and later that night when we got home, Chris played a couple more practice rounds with her. He’s better at this kind of stuff than I am.

Pokemon practice. The cat is just an observer.
Even though he was playing while half-asleep on the living room floor.

Catie was excited to understand the game a little better, and she said she hopes the next time she sees Dave’s girlfriend’s kids, she can beat them at Pokemon. We’ll see, I guess.

Meanwhile, Lucy had so much fun playing at my parents’ house that she was pretty much worn out by the time we got back.

Topless napping. It's all the rage.
Poor sleepy little pumpkin.

Both kids were out for the night before their bedtime (I try to get them to bed by 8:30 or 9; last night, they were both out by 8:15). I’m going to consider that a sign of a successful weekend.

beach weekend

This past Saturday morning, we (my parents, the kids, and me) loaded up my mom’s mini-van, and drove out to Wilmington, to go to to the beach.

Headed for the beach. The pillow serves a dual purpose: breaking up fights, and car naps.

My brother and his girlfriend Mandy drove over from Charlotte to meet up with us, and Chris and his son also came. (His daughter is out of state visiting her aunt.)

waiting for the waves to come to her

Catie and Chris’s son are the same age – they’re both about to start 2nd grade – and they play really well together.

Catie playing on the beach with Chris's son

Last year, Lucy was terrified of the ocean and wouldn’t even put a toe in the water. There’s a big difference between age two and three, though, because this year, she loved it.

Favorite pic from today: Lucy in the ocean with my parents. This is the first time she hasn't been scared of the beach.

I mean, that face, COME ON.

Lucy loving the beach

We were at the beach for over four hours, straight through Lucy’s naptime. She was having so much fun, but eventually she got tired and grumpy, and fell asleep on Chris’s shoulder. We set up a spot so she could have a little beach nap.

Beached.

Eventually, we headed back to our hotel, cleaned up, and went to dinner. Chris and his son headed back to Raleigh (he had to have him back to his mom early on Sunday morning), and the rest of us crashed at the hotel.

worn out in the hotel after the beach

The next morning, we met up with my brother and his girlfriend for breakfast, before we headed home. (Mmmm, Cracker Barrel…)

I had sort of a surreal moment later when I saw these two pictures, side by side.

Same beach, same swimsuit. Two girls, 4 years apart

Catie in 2010, Lucy in 2014. Same beach. Same swimsuit. Two different kids, four years apart.

It’s funny because I don’t normally think Catie and Lucy look alike all that much, but then I see them like this, and it sort of hits me that whoa, yeah. They really are siblings.

I guess an overnight road trip doesn’t really count as a vacation, but it’s probably as close as I’m going to get to one this summer. And it was great, so I have no complaints. I know the kids wanted to stay longer. Funny thing is, this was the first year that I really wanted to stay longer too. Normally after an hour or so at the beach, I’m all, “Ok, I’m done.” This was the first time that both kids were having fun, and I was able to just relax and enjoy it. Hopefully, next time, we’ll be able to swing at least a two- or three-night stay.

I’ve also promised my mom a trip to the mountains at some point (maybe in the fall, or for her birthday). She’s never been, and I know the kids would love that too. It’s one of the many great things about where we live in NC – you can drive a couple of hours in either direction and be either at the ocean or in the mountains. It makes vacations a lot more accessible when they’re within a reasonable driving distance.

Now, if I can just clean up all the sand we brought home with us…

you shouldn’t poke bears with a stick, but that never stopped me

I mentioned this a while back, but it’s kind of an odd position to find yourself in, when you know someone who actively dislikes you reads everything that you write on your blog. I mean, I guess it happens to popular bloggers a lot, but that’s not me, and this is not a random Internet troll, this is someone who is connected to my real life. Well, distantly connected. We’ve never met, but this person is related to people I know and love.

(If you know me in real life, you probably know who I’m talking about. See also: this is why I keep my Twitter account locked.)

zip_lip

I find that I censor myself a lot more now. Which is fine. Even at my most overshare-y, my blog probably only represented maybe 5% of my life. The only difference is that now I’m just more selective about which 5% I share.

Other times, I find that I’ll write something deliberately, in a way that reads as harmless to everyone else, but I know will provoke this person. I figure it serves him/her right for reading my blog in the first place.

There’s a weird kind of entertainment value in that, writing something and then waiting to see how long before this person sends an outraged text message referencing something I wrote here.

arrested-development-lucille-sure

Those outraged texts never take long. I think chronically angry people are always looking for something to justify their venom.

So, you know? Since this person is going to read my blog anyway, I figure I might as well use this little platform of mine to clear up a few things.

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My breast implants are saline, not silicone. If you’re going to make disparaging remarks about my body, you should at least get the terminology right.

If you’re saying it because you think I’m supposed to be ashamed of myself for admitting that I had a part of my body surgically enhanced because I wanted to feel more comfortable in my own skin?

haha_no

Nope. Not even a little. My new boobs are freaking awesome.

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Quick fact check:

* Chris and his ex separated in September 2011.

* He and I met in March 2012, a full 6 months later.

I don’t think the term “home-wrecker” can be applied to me, since that home was pretty thoroughly wrecked long before I ever showed up on the scene.

homewrecker
Pictured above: not me. (Bummer, I know.)

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If you are the type of divorced parent who thinks it’s acceptable to say negative things about your ex-spouse in front of your kids? I think you are a horrible person who should have your parental rights revoked.

leslie_knope_angry

That shit is unforgivable.

Look, divorce is hard on all of us, especially when kids are involved. Vent to your friends, or to a therapist. Common decency should tell you to leave the kids out of it.

Because no matter that you say you don’t involve the kids? When the kids themselves repeat something you said, it’s proof that you’re both a liar and a bad parent to boot.

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If you want to mock the name PooBou, which is a nickname from over 20 years ago?

Whatever, dude. Be my guest.

sound_of_music_no_fucks

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I’ve said it before, but since some people seem to think I have an agenda, I’ll say it again:

I do not care if I ever get married again. At all. It’s not on my to-do list.

And it’s funny, because a couple of my friends have gotten engaged recently, and I am so excited and happy for them, truly. But at the same time, there’s not one iota of me that’s jealous.

My commitment to Chris – and his commitment to me – is the same as if we were married, but I have no need for that piece of paper to certify it. It just doesn’t matter to me.

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One of the best things about my relationship with Chris is that we don’t interfere in our other relationships. He doesn’t tell me how to raise my kids or how I should interact with Dave, and I do likewise for him. Sure, we talk about things, and we might ask for the other person’s opinion, but neither of us dictates to the other how we should act with our families and friends.

I do my own thing, he does his own thing. We love each other and don’t try to change the other person.

awesome_keep_it_up
Maybe not a verbatim transcript of our conversations, but the gist is there.

I think that’s called mutual respect. It’s pretty great.

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Finally, there’s this.

dont_ruin_happiness

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I guess that about sums it up. Now I’ll kick back and wait to see how long it takes before those outraged text messages start popping up….

I hate the word staycation but I guess that’s what it is

We’re about halfway through our month-long summer break, and it’s been really nice so far. Catie loves the track-out program at our daycare. They have field trips every day, plus she’s known most of the other kids since she was in pre-K, and they’re all friends.

I’ve been trying to make sure we do as much “get out and have fun” stuff as possible, when I’m not working. Like, we’ll go to Goodberry’s in the evenings after dinner, and the kids will run around and play chase behind the building.

Girls playing at Goodberry's
Frozen custard plus playtime to burn off the sugar rush. Perfection.

We’ve been to the pool so many times that, despite my rigorous efforts at constantly slathering on sunscreen, both girls now have swimsuit tan lines. I never seem to get pictures at the pool because I’m always in the water with them (I have this fear about iPhone + water), but that’s been a lot of fun. Lucy started off this summer so cautious about the water that I couldn’t coax her off the steps into to the kiddie pool, and by last week, she was counting to three and then leaping off the edge of the pool into my arms.

The fourth of July was a lot of fun. We went to my cousin’s house so the kids could play, and we grilled hot dogs and made s’mores over the fire pit in their backyard.

Catie & Elizabeth. 7 year-old cousins. Keeping a safe distance from the fire pit while we cooked hot dogs.
Catie and her cousin Elizabeth keeping an eye on their hot dogs from a safe distance.

Then we went to watch fireworks, and Lucy found a pretty comfy spot for watching them.

Lucy found a pretty sweet spot for watching fireworks.
She got excited every time she saw pink fireworks. “Pink! It’s my favorite color!” Yes, my little girly-girl, we know.

We’ve also made time for playing at Mimi and Pop-Pop’s house.

Love watching my girls play with the Fisher Price little people toys that were mine when I was little.
I love watching them play with toys that were mine when I was little. My sister, brother, and I played with the Fisher Price little people all the time.

And taking silly selfies.

Happy Lucy face. (And a mommy photobomb.)
That face, I swear.

And, when the kids have been with their dad, Chris and I have had some occasional date nights here and there.

Sunday date night. (Girls with their dad this weekend.)
Just… happy.

So, ok, maybe it’s not a trip to Disney World or a cruise or anything like that. It’s been a pretty nice little stay-at-home vacation regardless.

sticking a balloon up your nose sounds like a really bad idea

A couple of years ago, I started seeing an Ear Nose & Throat doctor for some recurring sinus issues I was having. He recommended that I get sinus surgery, but the recovery time was at least two weeks. And he told me this when Lucy was a baby and I was a full-time single mom of two kids. So I basically balked at the idea.

I saw my doctor again a couple of months ago, and he told me about a new procedure called balloon sinuplasty, which is basically the same concept (taking a Roto Rooter to your nasal passages), but less invasive and the recovery time is minimal. And it turns out my insurance covers it, too.

So I’m having it done later this week. The kids will be with Dave for a couple of nights while I sleep off the anesthesia and recuperate. I’m not anticipating any issues, but you know, when you throw the word “surgery” around, things start to sound kind of scary. Good thoughts welcome.

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The kids spent this past weekend with Dave. It occurred to me that this might have been the first time he got to be with both kids on Father’s Day in Lucy’s lifetime.

Actually, I guess that’s not true, because he was here in 2011 when she was two weeks old. But the vast majority of 2011 is kind of a blur for me. It’s weird when people tell me about something I said or did around the time Lucy was born and I have no recollection of it. (My dad mentioned something about painting Lucy’s nursery pink. I was like, “no, I never painted anything in that house.” Then I remembered that oh yeah, I did. Or maybe Dave painted it and I just decorated it with vinyl wall stickers afterward? I honestly can’t remember.) Everything from that time frame is fuzzy, like something that happened in a dream.

Anyway, the girls got to spend Father’s Day with him this year, and that’s a good thing. Lucy’s daycare class all made some kind of art project for their respective dads, and Catie made him a dragon, since she made me one for Mother’s Day and I guess felt like she needed to be fair.

"I knew Mother's Day was coming up, so I made you this dragon." I swear, 7 is my favorite age yet.

I know I’m not objective, but I do really like her dragons.

I don’t say much about Dave here, because I generally think it isn’t appropriate. But I will say that it’s been really great having him actively involved in the kids’ lives these past several months. I think it’s been good for all of us.

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I miss blogging. It’s hard because lately I feel so scrutinized. I know a couple of people are reading here, looking for any tiny detail they can use against me or Chris.

What’s the expression, it’s not paranoia if people really are out to get you? That. It seems there are some people whose entire existence is based on trying to suck the happiness out of others’ lives. Joy thieves really suck to have around.

Hopefully, this too shall pass, and eventually I won’t feel quite so censored. But for now, I have to use the “mute” button pretty heavily on a lot of my life, and I hate it.