I guess it’s not really a troll because it was someone I have met in real life, but she didn’t like that I had a bit of happiness from winning an expensive bathing suit from Brooklyn Active Mama blog. I guess in between discreetly crying into Scarlet’s preschool handkerchief napkin, caring for two kids, and working on a really lengthy photo job, I shouldn’t have been happy about the bathing suit at the same time as the news that I can participate in a service for my grandmother by phone, since I couldn’t fly to Florida on a day’s notice. Thanks, troll, for telling me how to grieve. The thing is, and anyone who knew my grandmother can tell you this – my grandmother liked expensive things. She liked fashion and expensive bathing suits. I know she’d be cheering me on for feeling happy that I won a bathing suit, that I otherwise could NOT afford. Is that what you want, troll? Just my sob story? I can’t afford expensive bathing suits. My son is two and my daughter graduated preschool and I don’t know what to do with myself. My beloved grandmother passed away and I don’t know what to do with myself. I cry into paper towels and clean laundry socks. I rejoice over knowing I can hear the Rabbi speak at her service, and I rejoice that I won a bathing suit I cannot otherwise afford. My grandmother would be proud. Please don’t take away my happiness and tell me where to place my sadness.
And now onto some happy, which I need. Luckily for me, Rabia and Lisa have another great #TuesdayTen linkup, and I’m happy to play along with them this week: Ten Things About Dad. And so, I’ve got some things to say about some dads.
1. It’s the way he walked me down the aisle..
..and didn’t bat an eye that I chose “Drive” by The Cars as my father/daughter dance song, because I can’t really stomach “Butterfly Kisses” anyway, and he has always been the one to drive me home..tonight. And safely.
2. It’s the way he always made me feel safe in those first four years of my life. It’s the way my early, low-level anxiety nightmares were soothed on his lap, while he read me “Getalong Gang” books. It’s the way he stood on line for hours to get us those Cabbage Patch Dolls. It’s the way I never really felt so safe after he was gone, until I learned my way again. I’m still learning. My way again. And again.
3. It’s the way he’ll go on roller coasters and spinny rides with her because I won’t..
..even when he isn’t even the father of my child, but is the father of my child’s friend:
4. It’s the way he pulls jellybeans out of stuffed animal magic tricks, a TARDIS out of a ruddy garden shed, and a princess out of a daughter.
5. Warning: #5 is not safe for work or young family members peering over your shoulders!! It is, however, diabetic friendly.
Ok, then. It’s bachelorette-parties gone bad. It’s the way he laughed and laughed when he saw that I made him a penis cake.
6. It’s tickles, tricks and “Trot, Trot to Boston.”
7. It’s in the gentle strength, the touch, the diligence and patience.
8. It’s surprising your family with a puppy, and getting away with it too, because she’s just that awesome of a dog.
9. It’s picking out a 20 foot Christmas tree, and buying/constructing a bed as a surprise for your little girl.
10. It’s where you come from…
..and where you wind up.
Happy Father’s Day to all. I’m sorry I couldn’t show more appreciation on that very day, as things took a downturn with family tragedy, but you were all in my heart on Father’s Day, and you always are.