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Hangin’ Around.

I don’t have many secrets.

Nothing too juicy or illegal or murderous. There’s certainly a world of activity at work in my brain and I find a way to honor it and keep this blog fairly family friendly. My kids may read it one day, I hope. And I don’t hold back too much. I may clean up the language and be vague to protect other people, but never myself. I tell you how I met my husband. That sometimes we’re not connected. At all. That I suffer from occasional situational anxiety, that is so bad at times that it’s worth noting. That I think therapy is cool. That sometimes, I think I’m cool and other times I think I’m the dirt trapped behind the dog sh*t that is trapped on the bottom of someone’s shoe. That I suffer a lot of emotional pain, and experience the most exquisite joy.

You. Me. Here. This. I think we’ve got a good thing going.

If I ever sound vague, it’s because I’m protecting someone else. If I ever fail to update about something, it’s because I forgot. If I ever sound like my heart is not in it, it’s because I’m having a tough time. If I ever sound phony or sponsored or like someone is paying me to write about something, it’s because they either have a gun to my head or they’re offering me $1,000. Both unlikely scenarios. If I ever sound passive-aggressive, then oops, I didn’t reign it in as well as I should have!

Why am I talking about all of this? Eh, who knows.

I think it started because I don’t like to start a story or a problem or an idea, and then never follow up on it. I don’t like to leave thoughts hanging. I was thinking about Scarlet in school and how the first week was so rough that it required me to write two tear-inducing (to myself) blog posts about it in two days. And I never really talked about it since. So I came here to tell you that school is going wonderfully. She goes to a half day, parent cooperative preschool, and I have to admit, we’re not the best at the cooperating part of it, but we do the best we can. We write checks and send her on time and participate in work nights and we like the teachers and other parents and kids a whole lot. There was only ever one day, last week actually, in which Scarlet said she didn’t want to go to school. I still took her there and she was very happy to be there and they didn’t call me to tell me she was acting like an a-hole, which I anticipated, so all was well. I called her bluff and I was right. And the songs and games she comes home with? The best. More independence, like putting on her own shirt?

Awesome.

Not that she never acts like an a-hole. She just reserves it for us. Not for school. We still consider ourselves lucky she’s ours.

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And Mr. Beautiful, Smiles So Hard He Topples Over, Loves Everyone He Sees. We’re lucky about him too.

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He’s turning six months this week, and I’m sure I’ll have a lot to say about that in another post.

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I took these next photos of Scarlet while nursing Des. It wasn’t easy and he did try to bat the camera out of my hands a few times, but I loved that she was lost enough in her own world not to notice my brilliant multi-tasking.

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And Des fell asleep on the Trader Joe’s Fearless Flyer:

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And that’s..about it. Not. There are still loose ties and unfinished stories and unfinished business and fighting my anxiety and gaining confidence and learning the secret to life (joke) and love and just lots of lots of lots of living to do.

Until the next post then.

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