Landmarks

You know in order to look like you are starving, you have to starve a little bit. I'm starving myself currently. I was recently blessed with a come-around-once-in-a-lifetime motivator to lose weight and for the first time in my life I'm actually losing it. Every time I look longingly at a white chocolate macadamia nut cookie that Douglas makes (ALMOST DAILY!) the children remind me that I'm supposed to be losing face fat. I'm obsessed with the idea a little. It's fascinating what kind of emotional energy it takes to purposefully starve yourself. It goes against those self-preservation and self-advocacy principles I try to teach to my children and students.
David got baptized last weekend. It was a landmark day. Douglas got to do the baptizing and I'm not sure there is a more beautiful sight for a mother to see - the one boy with the other. Friends and family were packed in the house after. There are times that I just feel like our lives are so, so rich. We have piles and piles of dear and loyal friends and family. I'm overwhelmed at the thought even now. I don't feel like I've done anything to deserve them, and the gratitude I have for the service and love they give my children is inexpressible.
The colors outside are golden.
My favorite house is for sale.
My children make me laugh. They make me laugh like I used to laugh with my friends. They make me laugh like I laugh at a sleep over or on a road trip. I laugh and I laugh at the thought of laughing. And they laugh. And you know what? I think they feel honored that I would laugh with them. And I feel the same way. Exactly.
We are so close to the same creatures we were when we were in 8th grade.
Mozart's 40th symphony is perfectly mapable.
There are very few things I like more than crystal light right now.
My mother's father's second wife is dying. She lived a strong and happy life. She seemed content and peaceful at the end of her life. She must have done something right. We went to see her to say good-bye. Strange. None of us really wanted to go, but we all knew we had to bring each other. The experience had as much to do with her and us, as us doing something so right together. The children were soft and gentle, but they spoke with animation and joy. They smiled at her and wanted her to know they were comfortable there with her - like that - so close to the last breath. I think my grandpa and grandma are both waiting for her - and her first husband too. Of course. It's time to go when there is more waiting for you somewhere else than where you are. But the going.... I can't think of it.
I am walking around this planet in a prevalently confused state - but it is a gorgeous place to be. A gorgeous place to be.