All About Dizzy Lizzy (aka Pain In The Butt)

I am missing Ryan right now, so my niece Elizabeth (also known as Dizzy Lizzy) has come to spend the night. I told her that while Ryan was away she should make herself scarce, but she never listens to me... probably because I lie to her all the time... I mean, I tease her (I never lie). But she doesn't believe anything I say anymore as a result, even when I holler at her for real... she just assumes I'm teasing. I have to beat her with a big stick to make her understand I'm serious (she's sitting beside me right now and since the child couldn't lie to save her life, and because she is a HUGE tattletale, she wants me to let you all know that I don't really beat her with a big stick). Anyway, she wanted me to post some photos of her recent karate tournament. I didn't want to but she was going to make me watch Spongebob Squarepants all night if I didn't, so here they are (look left and down). The tournament was a pretty big deal and Elizabeth did amazingly well, finishing 3rd in her group, which was very large. We were all proud of her (well, I wasn't, but she's sitting here, so I had to say that). That's all. I think I've fulfilled my 'no Spongebob' requirement (and I'm going to put her out on the deck now because she just farted). Night night.

Brown... It's Just a Color

I met a man recently who was very smart, funny, and attractive… I liked him… a lot. We hit it off and for the first time in a while, I allowed myself to hope that I might have found someone with whom I could have a relationship… a long-term relationship. He seemed to share my enthusiasm for our connection… until… he said, “I have a question I’ve been meaning to ask for a while, as it could be an issue down the road…” Uh oh. An ‘issue down the road’ is never a good sign. And then he asked, “Did you marry outside your race? I’ve wondered since I saw a photo of your daughter.” Now, I’d already mentioned that Rob is Hispanic but it must not have registered… I dunno. So I reiterated that fact. I asked why it mattered. He replied that 'race-mixing' is fine for other people but because he believes it brings difficulties upon families, he didn’t want to date anyone who had a mixed-race child and invite those difficulties into his life.

I was stunned. Hurt. Angry. Sick. Sad. How did I miss the fact that this very smart, funny, attractive man, with whom I’d shared hours of conversation, was a bigot? But miss it I did. I understand that lots of people share his view. I know people who do. But I truly believe in my heart that we should invite people into our lives based on their character, integrity, actions, and what’s in their heads and hearts… not based on the color of their skin. There are quality people (and people not worth our time) of all colors. And I don’t see how I can teach my daughter that – teach her that color doesn’t matter but then say, “Oh, by the way, Ry, you can be friends with someone from a different race, but you can’t date or marry them.” That makes me a hypocrite. And though I am a lot of things, I try not to be one of those.

As I say, I know people (quite a few) who think the way he does. I just never thought anyone would apply that way of thinking to MY child – my beautiful, brilliant child, who just happens to tan easily and can barely count to ten in Spanish! And you want to know the most ironic part of this whole situation? HE is the only person who has ever made Ryan’s ethnicity a ‘difficulty’. And while I might be naïve (or maybe ‘hopeful’ is a better word), I truly hope he’ll be the last.

Busy, Busy Weekend

Hello All! We’ve had a busy, busy weekend with Ryan’s last swim meet and her birthday party (photos to the left). It was a good one overall, though I had to say good-bye to my baby this morning, as she left with her dad for a week in Alabama (more on that later). First things first...

The meet… Ryan did swimmingly! Hee hee. Really, she was amazing and finished FIRST in her heat in the butterfly (and shaved nearly 10 seconds off her best time!), FIRST in her heat in backstroke (besting herself by 4 seconds!), and fifth in her heat in freestyle (beating her best time by a second!). She swam a relay as well and, as the youngest member on the relay team (and the first swimmer), maintained third place (but the relay was lost, as the later swimmers lost some time). She was thrilled at her own performance, as were the rest of us. Her cousin Elizabeth was definitely her loudest fan (I have a cold and couldn’t cheer as loudly as normal).

The birthday party… was fun. We had it (early… her birthday’s not ‘til Saturday) at my brother and sister-in-law’s house, as they have a pool (the best part about summer birthdays is that you don’t have to plan any games… the kids just stay underwater). Six little girls splashed around, ate chocolate cake, and generally had a good time. Ryan got some great presents including a pair of swim fins from my friend Todd (and Jonesy, the red Welsh dragon). She was so excited about how much faster they allow her to swim, that she didn’t take them off the whole afternoon.

Alabama… sigh. Ryan will be spending this week with her dad and his new live-in girlfriend (yes, we only just met Amanda, the last live-in girlfriend… yes, I know… methinks we are sensing a pattern here). Anyway, we didn’t know about this girlfriend until Saturday… I don’t think I was meant to know at all, but Ryan has a big mouth. It was not a happy experience for me to learn that my child will be cared for all week by someone about whom I know NOTHING, but there was really nothing I could do. Hopefully she’ll be as nice as Amanda, who has become quite a good friend (never imagined four years ago I’d be saying that!). Thankfully, Ryan is OK with it all. We had a long chat last night and she said some frighteningly mature, shockingly wise, hysterically funny, and achingly sad things about the whole situation. It was bittersweet for me, really… on one hand, I realize I’m raising quite an impressive child and I’m obviously doing something right if she can handle such crap so well. On the other hand, I feel SO sad for her that she HAS to handle such crap at all. She said it all, I think, when she told me, “Mama, I sort of expect this sort of stuff from Daddy, but it wouldn’t be good at all if YOU did it.” No worries there, baby… no worries there.

And a good time was had by all...

Hi Everyone! We’re back from the wilds of Maine… I’ve washed the campfire smell out of my hair and the sand out of my underwear… my (much missed) dog is snoring at my feet and I’m sitting down with a cup of tea to write about our adventures. Put your feet up (but don’t fall asleep!)… I promise (I’ll try) not to be too long-winded…

First, I’ll start by saying that yes, it was just the two of us (Ryan and me) on this trip. Loads of people assumed there were others going and I was taken aback by how many people (friends, family, and strangers alike) seemed surprised that it was just us… I suppose the idea that 2 girls would venture alone (gasp!) into the woods without a man (what were we thinking?!) is surprising to some. One woman we met told me I had impressed and inspired her (of course, she wouldn’t have been impressed had she seen the pancakes I made that first morning at camp… disastrous). I didn't understand her attitude at all… but whatever. In any case, I did manage, all by my lonesome, to get us there and back safely, set-up camp, build a fire every night, cook such gourmet fare as homemade chili, spaghetti and garlic bread, avocado and mozzarella burgers, and blueberry/chocolate pancakes (they were the 2nd/3rd attempts), all on a camp stove, keep us dry during a massive all-night thunderstorm, and maneuver us through woods, mountain trails, and ocean paths successfully. I am woman, hear me roar!

So… Maine… one of the truly beautiful places on the planet. I loved it… so did Ryan. The weather for our whole trip (except for the night-time thunderstorm) was perfect. Though the locals complained about the heat, I was in heaven in 85-degree temperatures and nearly zero humidity. Our campground was really wonderful (though there were no showers) and our neighbors nice. Interestingly, none of them spoke English… the first family was Asian, though I think there was a Banshee in the woodpile, given how loud their youngest was. The next group consisted of a French-Canadian couple (she spread her make-up out on the picnic table every morning and very carefully applied her face… methinks this might have been her first camping trip). The third set of neighbors was a French-Canadian family, the father of which snored like a chainsaw (at least I assumed it was the father… but I don’t really know for sure, obviously). It was interesting to me to go from here, where Spanish is spoken by a big portion of the population, to there, where French is spoken so frequently, given Acadia’s French heritage and its proximity to Canada.

Acadia itself is really amazing and too big to explore in a mere week. We both want to go back for a bit longer (and the 16-hour drive convinced me of that more than anything!). Next time we’ll take bikes, as I think we could see even more than hiking around on foot. And hike we did… we didn’t sit still for a moment. We hiked lake trails, carriage roads, shore paths, and mountain trails… we trekked over lots of big rocks and some sandy beaches (and I was reminded every day that I need to see the ear/nose/throat specialist soon to see why I can’t breathe through my nose anymore). Ryan braved 50-degree water temperatures (I was not a roaring woman those days and only waded… even then my feet were numb after 5 minutes)… I’ve no idea how she stood it for 2 hours at a time, along with several other kids. I chuckled, as it reminded me of when we were in Scotland, in North Berwick, on the North Sea. The children were all playing in the water and their parents were watching from the shore, bundled in sweaters. In any case, she did it, I think, to prove her Uncle Grant wrong… he told her that the water that far north was too cold to swim in (a point with which I readily agree)… ornery child (wonder where she gets that?).

Other than hoofing it all around the island, we spent a little bit of time in Bar Harbor, which is the quintessential summer town… and a very liberal-minded sort of summer town, too, I noticed. I liked that. There were loads of shops, which all carried the same basic stuff (I know this because Ryan made me go into every single shop), and some nice restaurants… I had a ‘crab roll’ (I don’t like lobster) and blueberry pie… Ryan had chicken fingers (duh). We also left from Bar Harbor for a whale watching tour, which was very cool… literally… it was about 35 degrees out on the sea, 30 miles from shore. Brrrr. But the icy temps were worth it, as we saw a load of harbor seals and 2 humpback whales. I got one good photo as one of them breached but my camera didn’t recover fast enough for me to catch him slapping his tail on the water. It was amazing nonetheless. I did suffer a bit of seasickness out there, which surprised me, as I never get ill like that. I don’t think it helped, though, when I opened my eyes to see a little boy heaving his lunch into the trash can in front of me… ugh. But I survived without losing my own lunch (I think all my muscles were frozen, so it couldn’t have come up if it tried)… a good thing.

All in all, seasickness aside, the trip was really fantastic. We followed the park rule, which is to “leave no trace”, but Maine, and Acadia especially, left its trace on us.

I’m working on loading photos and should have some up by tomorrow.

Oh, and I’ve included a bit here… just things I observed, mused over, that made me laugh, etc, during our travels…

1. I saw license plates from 27 states between Virginia and Maine… seems the price of gas ISN’T keeping people at home!

2. For the amount of money we pay in tolls, our roads should be much better! Crossing the George Washington Bridge from NJ into NY costs $8.00! It ought to be paved in friggin’ gold!

3. On I-78 in PA, they have mile markers every tenth of a mile. I can see no reason for this… unless they’re there so that when you call the PA DOT to report the (many) potholes, you can tell them SPECIFICALLY where they are... of course, they don’t actually FIX the potholes, but that’s beside the point.

4. There are a shocking number of states which do not require motorcyclists to wear helmets… and there are a shocking number of (idiot) motorcyclists who take that to heart and ride bareheaded.

5. In New Hampshire, they have lots of HUGE blue (state-issued) signs declaring every stop where you can find a (state-run) liquor store (and lottery ticket distributor). Then, as you cross into Maine, the very first sign you see says, “Welcome to Maine – Our drunk driving laws are some of the strictest in the country”. I cracked up… obviously you should buy your booze in NH (please!) but don’t drink it in Maine!

6. I love bumper stickers… I saw thousands… including ones declaring Jesus is coming, God is dead, and Darwin went to Hell (that one really made me laugh)… loads of people seem to be looking forward to Bush’s last day (me included). I noticed a bunch of Obama stickers (though not as many as I’d have expected) and ZERO McCain stickers… not sure what that means, if anything.

7. An hour in the sea will yield approximately 6lbs of sand in an 8-year-old’s bathing suit.

8. Showers, even those for which you pay 37 ½ cents per minute and which are freezing cold, are never so welcome than after a day of sweat, sunscreen, sand, and sea (the combination of which is known as ‘stink’).

9. Nine days, 24 hours per day, is a very long time to spend with a child who talks a lot. A very long time.

10. Next time we’ll make it 12 days… I can’t wait.

It's Vacation Time... well, eventually...

Why is it that on days when you’re in a hurry or have 800 things to do, the forces of the Universe conspire against you to make life difficult? Why?! OK, I’ll concede that had I done 200 things each day this week (as opposed to leaving all 800 for today), I wouldn’t be so stressed. And I’ll admit that the decision to stay up until 1:00 this morning watching reruns of The Office might not have been the brightest plan I’ve ever hatched. And yes, I know that I complain in the same manner as I’m whining right now every single time I’m getting ready to get out of town and that I never, ever seem to learn. That’s all BESIDE the point. The point is… ummm… what was the point again? Oh, never mind. I was writing to tell you all ‘good-bye’, as vacation time is making its way (rapidly) here. We might (translated: we’d damn-well better) make it out of town by Sunday morning… and Ryan and I will arrive at Acadia National Park, on the beautiful coast of Maine, sometime Monday afternoon (after spending Sunday night in NJ, at my Aunt Jean’s). We’ll hang out in the wilderness for a week, and will return home (via NJ again) the following Monday. It’ll be heavenly, I’m sure, and I’ll have lots of photos to share! So everyone take care, have a wonderful week, and we’ll speak soon!

Now, off to the basement, and the grocery store, and Target, and the wilderness outfitters place, and the bank, and the post office, and the gas station, and my brother’s house, and swim practice…

Much love… Diane… XO

Yet Even MORE Swim Stuff...

Sorry... I know you're probably all bored blind, but I figured I'd post a few new swim meet pics. Tonight was the last meet Ryan will swim in before the big Champs meet at the end of July. She did really well and will likely place in all five of her events. The best part is that she's just having so much fun and is very focused on doing well... I'm SO proud of her. And that's all I'll say!

Oh, not quite done... tomorrow is the swim-a-thon (if the thunderstorms hold off) and we'll be turning in all of our donations... again, thank you SO much to everyone who sent in checks and cash! We appreciate it more than you know!!

Much Love, Diane... XO

Dog Days

My Aunt Jean once said that when she dies, she wants to be reincarnated as one of my dogs. I’ll admit that I’m one of those people who treats my pups like family… they have always been my ‘kids’. I don’t understand people who get a dog only to leave it tied up outside, ignored and lonely. I have always spoiled mine; I play with them and hug on them, and in return, I get the sloppy, unconditional love that only dogs (and slightly badly behaved ones at that) can provide… the big, paws-on-your-shoulders-tongue-from-chin-to-forehead sort of love. I know it’s not for everyone, but I thrive on it. Sundance (a.k.a. ‘My BOY’) loves me that way… he actually smiles when I get home, he tackles me (and sometimes knocks me down) with hugs at the park, he rides in the car with his head on my shoulder, and he sits beside me when I’m lonely, assuring me that for as long as he lives, I’ll always have someone for whom I am exactly… right. And that’s big.

I am not, however, one of those freaky people who believes my dog is human; who sets a place for him at the table (though my mother has threatened to do it for my moochie pooch); who carries him around in a purse (if I could lift him, that is) or pushes him in a stroller. I know he’s a dog, not a person or a baby. This evening, though, I met one of those freaky people… and I SO wish I’d had my camera…

I took Sundance for a little walk after dinner. It was raining (as it has done every day at dinnertime for the past week or so) and at the park down the street, we met a woman and her dog. Well, I think it was a dog. It had 4 legs and fur and it barked… sort of… it yapped, but in a barky way. Yes, I’m sure it was a dog(ish sort of animal). Now, small, yappy, dog-ish creatures are not that unusual, certainly… however, small, yappy, dog-ish creatures who are dressed exactly like their owners… that’s a sight you don’t often see. But both the woman and her dog were wearing raincoats, rain hats, and… wait for it… rain boots. Galoshes. Wellies. BOOTS. I was stunned. I think Sundance was, too, because instead of his usual, ‘Get the Hell out of MY park’ bark, he just looked at the dog and then up at me, his eyes pleading, as if to say, “Please, please, don’t EVER do that to me!” I patted his head, said, “Don’t worry, Bubby, I’d drown myself first,” and then I let him off his leash to plow through every puddle he could find, muddy paw prints notwithstanding.

Splish Splash!

I know you’re probably all getting tired of hearing about swimming (and yet, here I am again)… but I figured I’d update you on Ryan’s progress with the Waves. We’ve had 3 meets now (the last one was last night), we have one more before we go on vacation (we’ll miss one while we’re in Maine), and then we’ll have the big Champs meet at JMU on July 26th. So far Ryan’s swum every stroke for time and though she was a bit panicky about breaststroke and butterfly, she did well. I still maintain that backstroke is going to be her stroke and she remains solid in freestyle (the crawl). So far she’s placed in every event she has entered and her bulletin board is filling up with pretty ribbons. She hasn’t been upset at not finishing first (the first meet set a precedent which would have been hard to maintain, given that this is her first year), which I’ve been really happy about (she sees an A- on her report card as a failure… it could have been an A+, you know!). I’ve stressed to her that even more important than winning her event is improving her own time… beating herself per se. Last night she improved her freestyle time, so we were really happy about that. I’ve always loved that she’s a waterbaby but I’m so excited about how much she really seems to love the whole competitive aspect of the sport. I’d like to see it take her through high school (and, fingers crossed, college as well!). She’ll continue swimming with the VAST league this winter, as she’s seen how impressive the older VAST swimmers are in the summer league… you can really tell who’s in the water year-round and who isn’t.

As for me, I can’t remember enjoying a project so much. Working with my little sinkers has been a real joy. Their parents are so appreciative of the time (and energy) I spend and they thank me often. That makes it worth it, really, but the kids are truly the best part. Last night I watched one of my favorite little guys (Abraham) in his first meet… given that he’d never crossed the pool without floaties until last Friday, his 25-meter freestyle (i.e. doggie paddle) was some feat! He was SO proud of himself and I felt like he was my own kid as I stood at the end of the pool and cheered him on and took pictures (look left). I’ve spoken to the head coach (who won’t be returning next year) about taking on a more active coaching role next summer. She’s all for it, so I’ll be looking into taking a class this winter which will cover teaching the technical aspects of the strokes. It’s been 100 years since I swam competitively and though I can manage teaching the little ones, I feel I need more work to instruct the older, more proficient kids. It’s definitely something I think I’ll enjoy on a larger scale, so we see how it all develops… you know I’ll keep you posted ;).

All Good Things Must Come to an End...

And all crap passes eventually, too, I guess. I signed my divorce papers today. I know, it was a long time coming and because of that, I thought I’d feel differently about it… at best, elated… at worst, indifferent. But I don’t feel either of those things. Truth be told, I feel a bit empty… and sad, too (which I didn’t expect). All the anger and hurt passed a long time ago and I thought the grief had as well, but I still feel it… it’s like mourning, but not for the life or relationship that was, because neither were good or happy; but for the life and relationship I thought I’d have and that I thought I was working toward.

It seemed fitting that I waited today... waited for nearly an hour for the notary to become available to sign off on the divorce papers. I spent so much of my marriage waiting… waiting for degrees and work projects to be finished; waiting for time together and vacations that never came; waiting for kind words and compliments and ‘thank yous’ and ‘I’m sorrys’ that never came either; waiting to be a top priority in an overloaded, over-scheduled life; waiting to simply matter to the person I was supposed to matter to the most.

But now the waiting is over. The notary was finally free and she witnessed my signature, signed her name, and stamped and dated the document - the piece of paper that effectively ends a chapter of my life that lasted more than fifteen years. I wouldn’t change it… I don’t long for the marriage or the relationship or the person… not ever. And I know this empty, sad feeling will go away… because everything - good and bad – must come to an end.

Down Came the Rain...

Hello All... we're back from a weekend camping trip to Lake Anna, about an hour-and-a-half from here, with my brother Grant and his wife Mary Jane, some of their friends, my mom, sister-in-law Michele, and niece Elizabeth. A good time was had by all, though we did have to paddle through a bit of a monsoon on Saturday night. The weather had been just gorgeous but right about dinner time we heard some rolling thunder... that turned into the pitter patter of light raindrops... that turned into the mother of all thunder-boomers. It was really very cool (I never mind rain when I'm camping) EXCEPT for the fact that I hadn't yet sealed the seams on my tent. For those of you who are considering taking up camping as a hobby, do yourself a huge favor and seal the seams on your tent (preferably BEFORE it rains)! And bring a tarp to cover the tent in case the seam-sealer doesn't work. We had a few drips inside, communicated to me (me, who was standing outside) by 3 screaming little girls (for whom I had no sympathy, as they were merely getting sprinkled upon when I (and Mary Jane) might as well have been standing in the shower (a cold shower, too, mind you), fully clothed!). We were tying lines tighter and pulling tarps over and dumping the buckets of water that were pooling on the rain-flap (which is really a laughable term, unless it actually means 'to flap rain into the tent'!). Poor Sundance was all discombobulated and wouldn't leave my side, so he was drenched, too. On the up-side, the toothpaste I dropped on his nose the other day (which has attracted and stuck to all manner of dirt) was finally washed away. However, the tent later smelled like a herd of wet sheep had decided to bunk there for the night. Oh well. We survived. Camping is always an adventure! The rain did eventually stop and Sunday dawned, sunny and hot. I sat in the sun and made my list for our Maine trip... 1) Seam sealer, 2) tarp, 3) Wellies, 4) extra dry underwear...

My Baby Was on Fire Tonight!

Hi Everyone! I couldn't go to bed without posting a few photos of Ryan's first swim meet. She did an INCREDIBLE job and won first place in her first event (a 50-meter freestyle) and first place in her heat for her second (25-meter freestyle)... we won't know how she placed for that overall event until tomorrow, but I'm sure she did well. I was SO proud of her!! She was really nervous and unsure of procedure and all the particulars (it was confusing), but she sucked it up, dove right in (literally), and did amazingly well! And it was my first meet to function as a 'stroke and turn judge', which was really hard for certain events, but overall a lot of fun. I got a chuckle, too, when I realized that the coach for the other team was a girl (well, a woman now) I swam with on the Westover team 27 years ago! We spent 5 minutes or so assuring each other that neither of us has changed since high school... oh, shut up.

I'm off to bed now... it's been a long night and I'm spending the day in DC tomorrow with 3 noisy little girls... night night...

I DO believe in fairies... I do, I do!

I was looking at the photos I took of the Ryan the other day, thinking how grown up she looked in them, and I suddenly realized she’s going to turn 9 in a few weeks. Nine! How the hell did that happen? It’s a weird age, I think, as she’s straddling this invisible line… on one side, she’s a ‘tween (the new word for pre-teens)… on the other, a little girl. It’s a bizarre (and frustrating) dichotomy. For example, she’s more technically savvy than many adults I know… but she still has temper tantrums when the computer hiccups (of course, so do I). She is picky about her clothes and what coordinates… but she doesn’t see the mass of wrinkles that result when she stuffs her clothes in her dresser drawers. She has the attitude (and mouth) of a 15-year-old… but she still wants me to lie with her for a cuddle when I tuck her in.

I don’t like this growing up stuff. Part of it is because I know she’s going to be a massive challenge as a teenager and I’m scared witless. Part of it is that I simply miss my baby. But it’s inevitable, isn’t it? This past Easter morning, when we woke in our tent (bundled in our sleeping bags and parkas, hats, gloves, etc), we had “The Santa Talk.” Actually, it started out as the Easter Bunny Talk, as she wanted to know how he managed to leave her basket in my locked car, at our campsite. She wasn’t upset at finding out he isn’t real (I pointed out that the whole concept of a 6ft bunny waltzing into your house with a basket of candy is just plain creepy), but the whole Santa thing bothered her for a few minutes. I was a little sad about that… but relieved that I’ll never hear, “It doesn’t matter if I don’t play with it. Santa brought it, so it’s not like anyone PAID for it” again. Grrrrr.

Every now and then, though, I am reminded that she is still a little girl. My friend Todd, who lives in London, corresponds with Ryan via email, both as himself and as Jonesy, a red Welsh dragon who fishes in the Thames, types with a pencil (because of his long claws, you know), and lives in Todd’s spare room. Now, Ryan knows deep down that Jonesy isn’t real, but she’s still willing to suspend her disbelief and carry on this really lovely correspondence with her friend… her friend who just happens to be a dragon. And she still believes in fairies. When we were in England the summer she turned 5, she and her cousin Georgia saw one at the bottom of the garden (I missed it because I was on the patio, drinking beer… go figure). Since then, there is nothing anyone can say to convince her they do not exist, though her resolve does waver every now and then. After being told by a boy at school recently that there is no such thing as fairies, she asked me if I believe in them. I said I absolutely do; there’s no doubt in my mind. My affirmation worked, just like when she was little and I kissed the boo boos and made them better, and all was right with the world again. But I know the day is coming, in the not too distant future, when my words won’t mean a thing. Sigh.

Snakes and Beasties and Foam, Oh My!

Howdy All! It's me again (duh... who else would it be?). We're back from our fun little field trip to Natural Bridge, about an hour south of here. It's a pretty cool thing to see, really, and photos don't do it justice. I did get some great pics (down the left of the blog page), however, of one of the several snakes we saw on our little hike through the park, an interesting green bug Ryan found (how cool is my zoom?!), the girls (Ryan, her cousin Elizabeth, and their friend Raven), and... OK, I'm actually embarrassed to say this... Foamhenge. Yes, I said Foamhenge. And yes, I know. It's pitiful. So pitiful. You've no idea how pitiful. Foamhenge. Actually, Styro-Foamhenge. Imagine Stonehenge modeled out of gigantic, non-biodegradable coffee cups. I'll say this... we do cheesy better than anyone else in the world. Lordy, lordy.

Think Cool...

The swimming pool at 7am... ice-cold Diet Pepsi... Little Jimmy's lemon ice... Stonehenge in February... snow tubing... penguins... camping Easter weekend... Polar Bear Club plunges... Mr. Frostee soft-serve chocolate cones (with sprinkles... duh)... ice skating rinks... Johnstown in January (and November, December, February, etc)... ice cubes down your back (or pants!)... frozen Margaritas (raspberry... of course)...

What did I miss?

A 'Breast Man' Is Born...

You'd think, after living with a bright and extremely articulate child for nearly 9 years, I'd be used to hearing unusual and unexpected thoughts escape from the mouths of little people. But every now and then, I'm thrown. Last night was one of those every now and thens...

I've thoroughly enjoyed coaching the littlest kids on Ryan's swim team so far... I work with between 3 and 7 kids on any given night and they range in age from 4 to 6. They're all really adorable and because I've always been good with kids in that age group, they like me and are all getting quite attached (which I don't mind in the least). I try to make practices/lessons a lot of fun and give them all loads of encouragement and praise, which isn't difficult, as they try really hard to do their best for me.

One of my little guys, an especially cute and charming 5-year-old, doggie paddled out to me last night and when I picked him up to congratulate him for not touching the bottom of the pool, he looked at me through his bright orange goggles and said, "Your boobies are bigger than my mommy's." Well now. I didn't expect that. So I replied, "Thank you for that little bit of information," and I sent him back to the wall, where his little cronies were waiting for their turns to paddle out to me. When he reached the wall, he repeated his revelation to his 4-year-old partner in crime. And his (rather loud) reply? "Yeah, your boobies are bigger than my mommy's, too." Oh my. Our third little perv piped in (again, loudly) with, "Well, they're not bigger than MY mommy's! My mommy's boobies are HUGE!"

Monday night I'm wearing a t-shirt in the water.