Some of the bulbs I planted last fall are actually developing into real, live plants. I consider this proof that I am a master gardener, and not just a completely black-thumbed fool, as I had previously believed.
I bought the movie Enchanted, thinking Raisin would like it, but when I watched it to make sure it was appropriate, I realized that Susan Sarandon’s character would freak her out. I, however, am obsessed. Up until now, I was one of maybe 3 women in America who did not think Patrick Dempsey was all that McDreamy. I am now convinced. And I want to learn how to waltz. (Well, I know how. I want to be good at it.)
The last time I really rode my bike for any distance, I fell off it and made a mess of my knees. Shortly thereafter, I found out I was pregnant with Raisin, convinced myself that I had probably done irreparable damage to my baby* by falling off the bike, and did not touch it again. Plus, it’s hard to push a stroller (especially a double) and bike at the same time. This summer, we have 3 kids who are all big enough to ride in a trailer, and if the Jellyman and I go together, we can manage all of them. So, we went for a bike ride. I did not fall down, although it was a near thing, since I kept trying to turn around to check on Apple.
I accepted a permanent job with the bank (I had been working there through a temp agency). I still don’t love it, but now I have benefits and a 401(K). I find I am willing to put up with a semi-crappy job, in exchange for a little stability. At least for now.
Apple and Orange have discovered airplanes, and they both point in unison at the sky whenever they hear one, or even if someone just says, “airplane.” I feel like I’m living on Fantasy Island, except my island has more midgets, and fewer fantasies.
Oops, gotta go. The midgets (and, as their mother, of course I say this with all affection) are awake.
*Four years and nine months later, I am willing to admit that she will most likely be fine.