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Birthday Post

Twelve years ago today, I woke up at 4AM thinking “Now, THAT’S an odd smell*…and why am I wet?”
Thirteen hours and some waddling/crowning hijinks later, I was presented with a red-faced daughter, who was wrapped into perfect burrito form.

This may explain her ongoing fascination with TexMex. Or, that could be my fault.

At any rate, it has been a Kingda Ka sort of 12 years. Terrifying, exhilarating, far and away too quick. To me, she was just that little burrito, just a minute ago. She cannot be developing into a young lady so fast!

But she is. The eye rolls and dramatic sighs, if nothing else, let me know that she really is growing up.

That and the phone addiction. 🙂

She has been:
The Bebe
The Tot
The Girlie
The Girl
The Tween

Not a wee tot, anymore

But ever and always, she is Summer. My beautiful daughter. I am so blessed to have such a bright, sweet, compassionate person in my life.

I love you. You are the rockingnest kid that ever rocked a rock.

~Mom


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

* – amniotic fluid – your “water” – smells a bit like sweet bleach. It is an odd odor.

effed up dreams, yo.

Between my readings for class, seeing my daughter’s anime out of the corner of my eye whilst domesticating about the house and the crazy hidden object game I played to settle down before bed… my dreams were smack dab in the “lock her up” category.
Fragments that I recall:
Shoggoths infecting chickens with diseases that rotted them. Chickens who I loved like children. Heading out with a person (who I am not fond of IRL) to rescue my babies. Warning people not to touch the chickens when they were dancing as the infection – which caused molting, mange and a stinky, brown crust – would ruin their clothes. A road trip with the chickens to take them to a place of safety where they could have all the snakes they wanted to eat. 

The dream was so vivid and active that I got about a minute of sleep last night. Today is gonna be a four carafe day, I just know it.

IF MY LIFE WERE WRITTEN BY THE BARD…

It would almost certainly be a comedy of errors.

Just this week/end:

a.) Walked into a tree at school on Friday. Stopped under it for shady protection from evil sun and to finish a text to Mister Man. Having hit “send” I took a step forward – and bashed my forehead into a low-hanging branch.
Of COURSE there were several other people around. Of the 18 year old variety. To their credit, none of them pointed while giggling. And one of them even asked, “Are you alright ma’am?”
*snarl* FINE, thanks. LEAVING NOW. *huff huff OW huff huff*

b.) The mold count is apparently through the roof this weekend. My left eye has decided my being able to see out of it is a dangerous request. Therefore, swelling and itching have commenced, to the point of squinty, eye-boogery, reddened ARGH.
This plus the faucet that my sinuses have become have made me Oh.So.Attractive this morning.

c.) Shakespeare, while a lovely author, can bite me. Right in my [CENSORED] Writing about the psychology of those [CENSORED] humors and comparing them to sonnets? EAT ME PROFESSOR.

d.) The Girl has broken ANOTHER pair of glasses.
I’ll just be pulling that $200 to replace them out of me bum, eh wot?

e.) I have to go to the dentist this week.
😦 😦 and double 😦

f.) Dear sweet mockingbirds who live in my tree out back. Yes, I *know* it is a cat. He lives here, too. Also? He is so fat as to render any question about catching you totally moot. Please stop swooping at him. All he wants to do is stare at your nest and dream.

g.) I need about fourteen hours worth of organizing work done in my office. I need shelves (the kind that go on walls, instead of freestanding) to put my reference books upon. I need other shelves to house my vast collection of random geeky knickknacks that I have acquired over the years.

h.) I MISS writing fiction. I would like to get back to it, now. No more essays for awhile, please?