Thursday, June 14, 2012


The last day of 3rd grade sucks.

It may as well be the end of the world, it sucks on the suck-o-matic scale of suckiness so bad.

And no, I'm not being melodramatic. You don't know! You're not here!

The days of single-digit birthdays...GONE!

The days of holding out on sleepovers precisely because of the single-digit age...GONE!

The days of holding hostage all-day, multi-kid play dates because they were just to young to be trusted in large groups, and too young meant until you're in 4th grade...GONE!

The days of school field trips if and only if one of their parents could tag along and photodocument the entire escapade for the eternal baby books...GONE!

The days of succumbing to my fashion desires because it would make a much better picture than a tank top and sports shorts...GONE!

The days of deciding for them what summer camps, extra-curricular activities, student council activities, talent show entries, and book reports they should do because, of course, I always know what's best, which also happened to be what they really really really want but didn't know they wanted...GONE!

The days of allowing your parents to influence your choice of buddies, which is almost always based on your parents' ability to even remotely tolerate their parents...GONE!

And, based on our recent viewing of "We Bought A Zoo," the days of not being so grossed out by two people kissing that you squirm yourself into a frenzied fit of giggles...

Well...luckily...I still have that one, dammit.

Friday, June 08, 2012


Silly, I know, that something as simple as her insisting on gassing up our vehicle and cleaning the windshield could suddenly make me see her as a CEO, Nobel Peace Prize Winner, Olympic champion, and mother of six.

But it does.

Sunday, June 03, 2012


It's days like these that remind you why stopping to smell the roses is time-tested and true.

The boy out golfing with his Mommy. And the girl with me at her BFF's pool party. And for the first time in quite a few weeks, my shoulders have dropped below my ears and my sigh is is more inhale than exhale.

Saturday, June 02, 2012


I love to watch her pitch. Lovelovelove it. It thrills me from a place I all too often forget exists.

Her strength. Her confidence. Her style. Are all her own. And as much as her Mommy or I would love to take credit for it, I think she's actually become this in spite of us.

Today, she pitched like she's been playing for years, like it was second nature, like it would be silly to be doing just about anything else. And then, while we're all still sitting there jaw-dropped and grinning from ear to ear, she catches a line drive. Just 'cause she can.