tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22977399971647703772024-03-19T15:15:11.630-07:00For the Ya-Ya in Us AllMore unpredictable than a fortune cookie...but just as good!Buttercupyayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01370920178411046494noreply@blogger.comBlogger131125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2297739997164770377.post-56566397137396706642010-11-22T10:38:00.000-08:002010-11-22T10:46:04.110-08:00Change is in the Air...I haven't posted here since August.<br />I suppose that is indicative of many things, not the least of which is how busy I have been professionally.<br />Summer and Fall brought so many great opportunities and experiences, that I have found myself wondering if maintaining this blog is too much.<br /><br />I have decided it is.<br /><br />BUT...I also know that I will miss sharing here...so, since I also assume that if you are reading this, or commenting on it, we probably know each other in another fashion - either real life or <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">facebook</span> or <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">flickr</span> or something along those lines.<br />If we don't, I hope you won't feel abandoned, whoever you are...I know there are folks who read and don't comment...and since I am a creature that can wholly admit that I don't blog just for me, I also blog for the comments I will receive, the enjoyment we can share; I feel the need to know if my words are being read.<br /><br />On that note, I plan to continue "blogging" via "Notes" on my personal <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">facebook</span>.<br />You can find me <a href="http://www.facebook.com/danamcglocklin">here.</a> Send me a friend request if we aren't friends already; be sure to include a message telling me you came over from here...that would be incredibly helpful.<br /><br />In addition, my business photography blog is now accessible via my website...www.urbanutopiaphotography.com and you'll find me there often. Comments are moderated, so it may take me a day or two to see it. I'd love some feedback there or to chat with you on <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">facebook</span> or twitter. :)<br /><br />Talk to you soon. But not here. :) (After November anyway!)<br />DanaButtercupyayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01370920178411046494noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2297739997164770377.post-44146559081102446742010-08-23T22:12:00.001-07:002010-08-23T22:17:39.145-07:00How to...How to end a really shitty day...well, if I'm honest...it's been a really shitty past 10 days or so...<br /><div></div><br /><div>1. Load up the car with the kids, and the stuff you sent the hubby to the store for.</div><br /><div>2. Drive to the local beach without telling the kids where they are going.</div><br /><div>3. Build a fire, spread out the sand toys and get out the s'mores supplies.</div><br /><div>4. Just be.</div><br /><div>5. Continue to <em>just be. </em>For a couple hours. </div><div> </div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoCwPn4vvMyZjwAwg-5urJa_QF78MXB42seeZigATHyCWeSZLYnYmcXPP23S-ZCClM7oZO4ZEpNy__N9t3tDWw98J0dGL0sh8bMarA0rRL4Fti-T4Yl0VQtC5xadP_ZscLjUpjWzMW/s1600/BEACH_blog.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 275px; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5508840929001933858" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoCwPn4vvMyZjwAwg-5urJa_QF78MXB42seeZigATHyCWeSZLYnYmcXPP23S-ZCClM7oZO4ZEpNy__N9t3tDWw98J0dGL0sh8bMarA0rRL4Fti-T4Yl0VQtC5xadP_ZscLjUpjWzMW/s400/BEACH_blog.jpg" /></a><br /><div></div><br /><div>Ending the day like this is HIGHLY recommended for the soul.</div><br /><div></div>{Dana}<br /><div></div>Buttercupyayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01370920178411046494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2297739997164770377.post-58893365876979637982010-08-23T09:33:00.000-07:002010-08-23T09:38:33.498-07:00An Open Letter to...Myself.Dear Depressed Dana,<br />Just because you have thought you're whole life that you CAN do it ALL, doesn't mean you have to continue with this way of thinking.<br />Sometimes you can't do ANYTHING.<br />And this is okay.<br />Get to that place where you can agree with that statement.<br />Do what you need to get there.<br />And be okay with it.<br />Your family loves you, even if it's not the family you started out with, or were born into. You already know that "family of origin" and "family" are two different things.<br />Embrace that.<br />Do what you need to gain patience. If that means a mommy "time out", take one. If that means a day of guilt free "doing nothing", take it. Even if that means cancelling a much needed play date or staying inside on a sunny day.<br />Do what YOU need for a change.<br />And be okay with it.<br /><br />Love yourself,<br />The "Other" Dana.Buttercupyayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01370920178411046494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2297739997164770377.post-8023419944317458372010-08-06T12:22:00.000-07:002010-08-06T12:24:04.805-07:00The Benefits of Taking the Morning Off<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDcas8XCNteO3K5YhPzFV4nPjaIJnbWSkzQAthubPVNYjCFu71gmBhkOSD7wyqurNbwUGKlCAwjRUCPjwzP_IXjaRGggDxa4MFyBCOZt8VcoApVqQv730f8Urbm8N7-W8mvosgG9-c/s1600/summerfun_blog.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 400px; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502379658488086818" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDcas8XCNteO3K5YhPzFV4nPjaIJnbWSkzQAthubPVNYjCFu71gmBhkOSD7wyqurNbwUGKlCAwjRUCPjwzP_IXjaRGggDxa4MFyBCOZt8VcoApVqQv730f8Urbm8N7-W8mvosgG9-c/s400/summerfun_blog.jpg" /></a><br /><div></div>Buttercupyayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01370920178411046494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2297739997164770377.post-40910484738227128242010-07-24T22:12:00.001-07:002010-07-24T22:30:37.719-07:00Notes from the Road: Edition 1Moose thinks there might be something wrong with this plan.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9MRHJq2FeaPZ_1SQRj1jgPR4-o-kILb13bREmcEBeSKFhOeje2rCZzXhT8ox5Bx0D640J6NR8fNgRQLYw7txrxCzwVB7DBOphXmRIJDYKJTHk40lFWJKCjGoQoKoCSHzy3jp0dDwk/s1600/IMG_0009.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 400px; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497708820750289890" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9MRHJq2FeaPZ_1SQRj1jgPR4-o-kILb13bREmcEBeSKFhOeje2rCZzXhT8ox5Bx0D640J6NR8fNgRQLYw7txrxCzwVB7DBOphXmRIJDYKJTHk40lFWJKCjGoQoKoCSHzy3jp0dDwk/s400/IMG_0009.JPG" /></a>Buttercupyayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01370920178411046494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2297739997164770377.post-10555756872891521142010-07-08T23:35:00.001-07:002010-07-08T23:50:21.662-07:00Girl<div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvCsIP6UzIeSsZnvEHllgocvElCGzXy4rXm0mn3fg_u5OgDbLV1MWkH8Ym_1dmyKr_bKkTZBwydHispMic4tWNiUlYOOrMoR79k6lhbUcgl-Jnf25tuBFDWUsRNnKU7U3hrujiuF3E/s1600/IMG_1023.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 400px; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491792554828123602" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvCsIP6UzIeSsZnvEHllgocvElCGzXy4rXm0mn3fg_u5OgDbLV1MWkH8Ym_1dmyKr_bKkTZBwydHispMic4tWNiUlYOOrMoR79k6lhbUcgl-Jnf25tuBFDWUsRNnKU7U3hrujiuF3E/s400/IMG_1023.JPG" /></a><br /></div><div>She is silly. Sillier by the day. (She wasn't <em>really</em> scared here, just acting. Though the blood curdling screams tended to tell otherwise.)</div><div> </div><div> </div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheysPWxgfNGCNq7T368qRW9mBKK_gr-m1OcfooOqeugVFvPXEI0PNDiK5hyphenhyphenDjLMjabM1p1nSjp8ASNAKrYid3qlZLq-vLrq1GSjLR_1N5BsA1-9WdOOuyamtqAXztZcvn1eoPc5bGR/s1600/IMG_1092.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 267px; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491792565451817874" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheysPWxgfNGCNq7T368qRW9mBKK_gr-m1OcfooOqeugVFvPXEI0PNDiK5hyphenhyphenDjLMjabM1p1nSjp8ASNAKrYid3qlZLq-vLrq1GSjLR_1N5BsA1-9WdOOuyamtqAXztZcvn1eoPc5bGR/s400/IMG_1092.JPG" /></a><br /></div><div>She likes thrill rides. All of a sudden. The Gravitron (and all it's variations) is her favorite ride at the carnival. She'll ride it over and over and over...well, you get the picture. </div><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXJ0dY9GumhIucmTeLi4T00NY8bMCk3aXOVClLol6uIt6kt75yXXjhSrHBItlcW3RG_w-6OzkFQL2rGP-iVSwoj68Lwq_YTnsTWJp3pjMv6WAqAVZF_Yr0QyySPdVGxaKebNBvyT4N/s1600/IMG_1105.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 267px; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491792574415025634" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXJ0dY9GumhIucmTeLi4T00NY8bMCk3aXOVClLol6uIt6kt75yXXjhSrHBItlcW3RG_w-6OzkFQL2rGP-iVSwoj68Lwq_YTnsTWJp3pjMv6WAqAVZF_Yr0QyySPdVGxaKebNBvyT4N/s400/IMG_1105.JPG" /></a><br /></div><div>She is learning to laugh at herself. Gone is the self loathing and self pity that used to accompany potentially embarrassing moments. Like missing at the KIDDIE game. Now, <em>that </em>was hilarious!<br /><div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjacOjPV33yP0LlpIolaFvuUT4N-iBdNk5np7cFT93FYVOEcMEKeSibvR18QMWiXnqvO93BdijEm95laCtedfsk5q1m2qViJv1ZPuwlsVEUStAWOQHxUWfqeV4EdQfI5TDJsvUPBPoa/s1600/0614001831.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 300px; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491792537958160498" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjacOjPV33yP0LlpIolaFvuUT4N-iBdNk5np7cFT93FYVOEcMEKeSibvR18QMWiXnqvO93BdijEm95laCtedfsk5q1m2qViJv1ZPuwlsVEUStAWOQHxUWfqeV4EdQfI5TDJsvUPBPoa/s400/0614001831.jpg" /></a><br /></div><div>She adores her daddy. She looks forward to their "Daddy-Daughter Dates". She becomes quite the Chatty Cathy when you ask her "how was it?" when they return. You must hear every detail. And I do. And I love it. I hope she knows just how blessed she is to have such a great dad. I think she's beginning to get it. </div><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgex9-o0rXIRMsQImQG7HVfzTmLbj8Ge5GGn0PqcS9rcRfDaOfNlgEJa46nT-YFimG4TvqD6E7bAMjQ6bVG7jXhsKaUPeSgkPPQbeqTAZm0TjfzDgLHcsS1WVE9gTwCPkrVgdwNLCaQ/s1600/IMG_0054c.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 267px; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491793453913485266" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgex9-o0rXIRMsQImQG7HVfzTmLbj8Ge5GGn0PqcS9rcRfDaOfNlgEJa46nT-YFimG4TvqD6E7bAMjQ6bVG7jXhsKaUPeSgkPPQbeqTAZm0TjfzDgLHcsS1WVE9gTwCPkrVgdwNLCaQ/s400/IMG_0054c.jpg" /></a><br /></div><div>She is CRAZY BEAUTIFUL.</div><div>Like that photo above.</div><div>How can she still be so dang beautiful when acting crazy? </div><div>The world may not be ready for her, but she is getting ready for the world.</div><div> </div><div>I love you baby. Grow slowly.</div><div><br /><br /> </div><div></div></div></div>Buttercupyayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01370920178411046494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2297739997164770377.post-56187477181453285252010-07-07T14:22:00.000-07:002010-07-07T14:28:26.625-07:00Boy<p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjIve6HIFLYuWZyiaZv41ziWSRjgnlBMDuCkaq5FIoSAzAYYj9v2GcMKX-wfyeI0JofYZM2Am_m0y_G3GsDE2d-eeaoVGqvCRn71ZeOy2jKWuSBp6gXaJ0wOuotrS-91rdpjCqGw7W/s1600/IMG_0506boy.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 400px; HEIGHT: 286px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491278254984451202" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjIve6HIFLYuWZyiaZv41ziWSRjgnlBMDuCkaq5FIoSAzAYYj9v2GcMKX-wfyeI0JofYZM2Am_m0y_G3GsDE2d-eeaoVGqvCRn71ZeOy2jKWuSBp6gXaJ0wOuotrS-91rdpjCqGw7W/s400/IMG_0506boy.jpg" /></a></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmwJBF4zxeQ8Nk7dkhhbQ23gaXKY2LB1r0eNOH3sFGwptpdKbSERlIk1hnfVLpdAMZr54jNOfAnjhyphenhyphenJRElvIqO91qcl4H5KiUnqy5SUsEGiJ8sNBk2YesK1FTQIGIvdnq8UDqyLvMu/s1600/IMG_0505.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 204px; HEIGHT: 347px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491278269718428882" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmwJBF4zxeQ8Nk7dkhhbQ23gaXKY2LB1r0eNOH3sFGwptpdKbSERlIk1hnfVLpdAMZr54jNOfAnjhyphenhyphenJRElvIqO91qcl4H5KiUnqy5SUsEGiJ8sNBk2YesK1FTQIGIvdnq8UDqyLvMu/s400/IMG_0505.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpZoi9J_4PDvhci2xixbrV0Zb6RzSBA8B4O8HZOkPn2qj5lRO1fMaNEvJ8Xl__KNrbAsu36iYQu5a5wHS1yYk_D1yzpS87dbEOi0u7h_6gmOpu_URDxpcbtE9aLuAu3ztC6VU8HQgh/s1600/IMG_0512.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 218px; HEIGHT: 346px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491278261363836914" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpZoi9J_4PDvhci2xixbrV0Zb6RzSBA8B4O8HZOkPn2qj5lRO1fMaNEvJ8Xl__KNrbAsu36iYQu5a5wHS1yYk_D1yzpS87dbEOi0u7h_6gmOpu_URDxpcbtE9aLuAu3ztC6VU8HQgh/s400/IMG_0512.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">That one on the left is his "baby kangaroo" and the one on the left is a "crescent moon".</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">Or so he tells me.<br /></span>Buttercupyayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01370920178411046494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2297739997164770377.post-74335096581681642742010-07-07T13:27:00.001-07:002010-07-07T13:33:30.195-07:00RevisionsJeez.<br /><div>Blogger is on my nerves. Or more accurately, my "blogger" skills are lacking and that is annoying. I am attempting to make some revisions to my personal blog so I can then make some good ones to my <a href="http://urbanutopiaphotography.blogspot.com/">Urban Utopia Photography blog</a>. You know, to make it more appealing, user friendly and inviting...maybe then I'll be more apt to update more often. *Sigh.*</div><br /><div></div><div>So, if you come here and it's busted. It'll be back soon. This blog gets to be my guinea pig. </div><div></div><br /><div>And I leave you with this:</div><br /><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491264778301142258" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNib-XCEJMiFgLzqRk83kQSfe62VN5W7SlD8T9ymERFKmwxIiUXc3Y8w4JpyUFfdTp8qz-FQz1wfEAPdnr3_tBjxr3Xx9xnNg0eFnoVOtkEmN8xPTl4wj5Sjo1Bn1eGDAXsIU4y0JF/s400/IMG_1200.JPG" /></div>Buttercupyayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01370920178411046494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2297739997164770377.post-37974582715750990922010-06-22T19:38:00.000-07:002010-06-22T19:47:43.190-07:00Lucky they're cute...When I have days like today, well week's like this week...let's be honest here-annd it's only Tuesday, people-I like to see things like this, to remind me that not every day will be this rough.<br /><div> </div><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485795053407087858" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8hHA4ZpuQYSQuZ1siQOzc8W5qI3bN4HXAeRGXf2RYXdRNCj71WmR7I1kGvSNAejI0N4pCuoB5ACVLVZ-I-M08CwdYl8gDnsOaVXOrGTDmdDHUv-KUFx7_hHk0Q3qobMqEdBTbBX2b/s400/100_3431bbsctch.jpg" /></div><br />Here's looking toward tomorrow.Buttercupyayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01370920178411046494noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2297739997164770377.post-339677334543053432010-06-20T18:19:00.000-07:002010-06-20T18:27:08.049-07:00Because I Suck...Jeez.<br /><div>I owe you peeps big time.</div><div>Is anyone even there anymore???</div><div>I don't blame you if you aren't.</div><div></div><div>So...to just jump headlong in, I'll just pick up right where I am right now.</div><div></div><div>Busy.</div><div>Busy with life. And decisions. And being okay making them or not making them just yet.</div><br /><div></div><div>I have been flexing my creative muscles and my shutter finger at the same time.</div><br /><div>Laughing at the kids singing their versions of that annoying commercial's jingle "I wear no pants...I wwweeee-aaarr no pants"...the girl sings it pretty standard, but the boy? The boy is usually a different story. So, par for the course he sings it "I wear no sweats. I weeeeaaa---rrr no sweats". </div><br /><div>I know.</div><div></div><br /><div>And just now, I heard him saying in a teasing voice to his sister, something about "poop on you" and "baby poop and baby diapers". Who knows? I'm not even going to ask what that was about, as I am pretty sure I don't want to know. </div><div>Let the crazy continue.</div><br /><div>And I am relishing every moment. </div><div></div><div> </div><div>Also...I'll leave you with this image...this is how most days end around here. Covered in band-aids. This one is from a day spent with fellow photog friends at a local park, and the boy, of course, ATE IT. HARD. There was screaming. As usual.</div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485031855503099906" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2kSIH3PSGCC3oQlplbZw5nx3-l_lZB_YJuAeRpDqcfYC_Hs2Cn-T_9HN8df5eSM4XSaIzcTTZZ1W1_WpldnYq-D0md3utKSlcGzmvgO5UbtoCthDo-NTWVIPdoytXJuXok4V47TMJ/s400/IMG_0719.jpg" /><br /><div></div><br /><div>And "mommy's special band aids". </div>Buttercupyayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01370920178411046494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2297739997164770377.post-56135786573308939852010-05-27T09:34:00.000-07:002010-05-27T09:46:07.426-07:00ChoicesLately, I have been processing.<br />Processing information and realizations with regard to my family of origin.<br />Processing memories that have reconnected like wires in my brain that were fried and somehow, with hard work and an open mind (and a Higher Power) have mended themselves and electricity flows through them again.<br /><br />I'm in Decision Land. And I fear that it will be lonely here. I know that making a decision like the one I am faced with will change things. It will change me. And it's been over 30 years coming. I've avoided it at all costs. I've held out hope that things will get better and change and that somehow <strong>I</strong> am the one that has all the power to make that happen.<br /><br />My Higher Power seems to have other plans.<br />And I'm processing that.<br />And dealing with that.<br />And decision making.<br />And..<br />Seems like a lot of "and"s doesn't it?<br /><br />I read this morning, after a very therapeutic meeting last night, <em>"...The sense of being trapped is an illusion. We are not controlled by circumstances, our past, the expectations of others, or our unhealthy expectations of ourselves. We can choose what feels right for us, without guilt. We have options...Today I will open my thinking and myself to the choices available to me. I will make choices that are good for me."</em><br /><br />While this is all helpful and enlightening, the journey and the choosing aren't made easier. BUT...yes, there is a "BUT"...I can give myself <u>permission</u> to not have all the answers and to take one moment at a time.<br /><br />So that is what I'm doing...one moment at a time. Learning hard lessons. Lessons that are ripe for the picking. Learning to trust that my "family" and my "family of origin" may not be the same thing. Learning that I have a choice in which family members I associate with and which ones are unhealthy for me to involve in my life. Learning that I have a choice. And learning to choose to be accepting of that.Buttercupyayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01370920178411046494noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2297739997164770377.post-4230568854329062622010-05-06T10:19:00.000-07:002010-05-06T10:31:21.901-07:00Life LessonThis week I needed this.<br />I needed to read this.<br />I needed to hear this.<br />I needed to think about this in a way that I am unaccustomed to.<br />So I am.<br />And I'm going to share it with you.<br /><br />I realize it's been about a month since my last post, and truly my absence has been irritating, even to me. I want to blog, but don't feel that much has been blog worthy or interesting enough to share here. What I would like to remember, is that it only has to be blog worthy and interesting to ME. I am thankful for my readers, commenters, and yes, even lurkers. But in the end, I blog for me; to share my life, to entertain myself and to get things off my chest. The universe is responding.<br /><br />So I will share with you the item I read last night. Take from it what you will, as always.<br /><br /><u>From "The Language of Letting Go" by Melody Beattie</u><br /><strong>Control</strong><br />Many of us have been trying to keep the whole world in orbit with sheer and forceful application of mental energy.<br /><br />What happens if we let go, if we stop trying to keep the world orbiting and just let it whirl? It'll keep right on whirling. It'll stay right on track with no help from us. And we'll be free and relaxed enough to enjoy our place on it.<br /><br />Control is an illusion, especially the kind of control we've been trying to exert. In fact, controlling gives other people, events, and diseases, such as alcoholism, control over us.<br /><br /><em>Whatever we try to control does have control over us and our life.</em><br /><em></em><br />I have given this control to many things and people in my life. I have never gotten the results I wanted from controlling or trying to control people. What I received for my efforts is an unmanageable life, whether that unmanageability was inside me or in eternal events.<br /><br />In recovery, we make a trade-off. We trade a life that we have tried to control, and we receive in return something better - a life that is manageable.<br /><br /><em>Today, I will exchange a controlled life for one that is manageable.</em><br /><em></em><br /><em></em><br />Have a great week everyone...I intend to learn to let go of what I think I can control a little bit more this week. Progress, not perfection, right?Buttercupyayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01370920178411046494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2297739997164770377.post-43581065624602603042010-04-07T00:22:00.001-07:002010-04-07T00:23:52.232-07:00Wordless Wednesday ~ Easter Morning<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7bHyBfk0CKsZUeGUAMmNz9oEmscW9HeHWcku-cmNV9vgJu20iGxyZCUbWR-6rUmpZBYpSdo5q5qt-jwa3SFJEICbJ18xdG_CMrNL2miMt4MOWPLgS4gdmkCFrkGT-2h8bYYbOrhFw/s1600/Patience.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457292803366254658" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7bHyBfk0CKsZUeGUAMmNz9oEmscW9HeHWcku-cmNV9vgJu20iGxyZCUbWR-6rUmpZBYpSdo5q5qt-jwa3SFJEICbJ18xdG_CMrNL2miMt4MOWPLgS4gdmkCFrkGT-2h8bYYbOrhFw/s400/Patience.jpg" /></a><br /><div></div>Buttercupyayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01370920178411046494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2297739997164770377.post-13731604124317189152010-04-05T16:47:00.001-07:002010-04-05T16:50:18.448-07:00Texting, Girl StyleText between The Girl and me this afternoon, directly after she got out of her first Drill Team practice.<br /><br />Girl: it was SO fun mom<br />Me: yay! your dad should be there to pick you up.<br />Girl: i'm in da car<br />Me: 'da'. Really? You are not 'hood. Try using 'the'.<br />Girl: Ur DA bomb<br />Me: that is the only time 'da' is appropriate.<br />Girl: ok fun sucker<br /><br />I am pretty sure she wins this one.<br />Damn it.Buttercupyayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01370920178411046494noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2297739997164770377.post-70515060586443198002010-03-17T13:38:00.000-07:002010-03-17T13:43:38.479-07:00"Aha!" Moment, CapturedWhile perusing a helpful website, I unexpectedly ran across some "Words of Wisdom".<br /><br />The last one on the page; the last one I read; for a reason, I imagine, was this:<br /><br /><br /><em>Expectations are just premeditated resentments.</em><br /><br /><br />I went to the site without a conscious reason.<br />I think I found my reason. I needed to get this message today. I am aware of that, at least.<br /><br />I'll try to think of expectations in this way, because boy, how often it is true for me is overwhelming.Buttercupyayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01370920178411046494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2297739997164770377.post-83765802983720204202010-03-15T22:23:00.000-07:002010-03-15T22:44:23.277-07:00ExploringLast year, I started following a television series called <a href="http://www.mystyle.com/mystyle/shows/ruby/index.jsp">Ruby</a>, maybe you've heard of it. Maybe you've watched it. At first it was just inspirational to watch someone attempt to save herself from herself. I thought she had such strength and determination, all while having that slightly annoying Southern ditsy-drama queen thing going for her. (This is not to be taken as an insult to my Southern friends, I have personally had experience with this type of Southern Belle, and this is not to be taken as a blanket statement.) I love Ruby. I love her courage, faith and sense of humor.<br /><br />Ruby, like myself, is missing chunks of her life in her memory banks. There are many spans of years she can't remember a single thing that happened. So do I. I connected to her on that level until she decided to visit her old school. I didn't understand why. I didn't think it would help, and I was seriously judgemental about her reaction.<br /><br />That was a year ago.<br />And an experience ago.<br /><br />Last weekend, I pointed out my mom's old place to a friend. Then I decided to stop there. This place, seen previously as my mom's old home, became something more for me. I expected to point out the poor decision making that went into this home of theirs, this weird situation I found them in but what I didn't expect was to <em>feel</em>. You see, I never <em>lived</em> there. They moved to this property after I no longer lived at home. I visited. My daughter spent the night. Even I spent the night. It felt a lifetime ago, and in a sense, it was.<br /><br />I didn't expect to be affected by this place. I thought I was detached from it. I thought that I had no feelings attached to it.<br />I was wrong.<br />This place brought back a lot of memories for me. A lot of pain. A lot of anguish. A lot of fear and loneliness I didn't even know I felt at that time. I know now, mostly because I am no longer in that place in my life and honestly I am no longer that girl.<br /><br />This place suddenly felt less pathetic and more sad to me. Sad that my mother had valid hopes when she established that home. Sad that she is unable to see her repetitive actions. Sad that I keep expecting her to, even when I no longer think I have any expectations of her.<br /><br />I suppose I get it now, Ruby. I get why you went back to that place. If it affected you in the way revisiting this place did for me, and the memories came flooding back, I can understand why you would want to keep doing it. Keep visiting these places. Keep pushing your memory to...well...remember; to release those memories to you again and trust that you can handle them.<br /><div></div><div>I am curious now. I am curious about the dozens of other places we have lived. I am curious if I could get my memories back if I visited them.</div><div>I am curious, scared and exhilarated at the thought.</div><br /><br />I get it, and I'm sorry for the judging.<br /><br />I am there too.Buttercupyayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01370920178411046494noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2297739997164770377.post-60854589634963348512010-03-03T13:22:00.000-08:002010-03-03T13:24:26.826-08:00Wordless Wednesday ~ SQUIRREL<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxARUn2bOUSbapZE_imI2uKB5icKreRbTEx8lHKDmrlJ77RC63nk50OHVr5KANNEPMuhDuu1TOfnQe9waIKGbKaISoj3AJ0LZJj-h6H3ovRQJOHahJWksCaGLu02Ov7BaHLVyG8sCG/s1600-h/100_3626vbsctchtext.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444521522372790738" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxARUn2bOUSbapZE_imI2uKB5icKreRbTEx8lHKDmrlJ77RC63nk50OHVr5KANNEPMuhDuu1TOfnQe9waIKGbKaISoj3AJ0LZJj-h6H3ovRQJOHahJWksCaGLu02Ov7BaHLVyG8sCG/s400/100_3626vbsctchtext.jpg" /></a><br /><div></div>Buttercupyayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01370920178411046494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2297739997164770377.post-16571815485084534902010-02-25T01:09:00.000-08:002010-02-25T15:43:49.850-08:00Opposites DayDear McDonald's Patrons:<br />In an effort to find the positive in things, and possibly be less catty (for a minute at least, what do you want from me?) I want to take a moment to thank you for a few things. I mean, I REALLY want to give you props.<br /><br />I want to thank those parents who don't allow their children to come over to the table where my three-year-old is trying desperately to not be distracted. Thank you for teaching your brats to keep their hands to themselves and <strong>not </strong>take his Happy Meal toy...off his tray...at HIS table...after I have asked them twice not to...while giving you dirty looks.<br />Thank you.<br /><br />I would like to thank those parents who realize that ragged footy pajamas are not appropriate at lunch time in Playplace on a six-year-old. (Assuming she is six-years-old is being generous, trust me.)<br />Thank you.<br /><br />Also, to expand on that gratitude, I will thank the parents who don't then have their generously-six-year-old girl change into actual clothes in the middle of a Playplace that has a bathroom RIGHT THERE. IN THE PLAYPLACE. While she screams that boys will see her naked, and "please mommy, can we just go in the potty".<br />Thank you.<br /><br />I want to thank the parents who don't allow their children to <em>literally </em>walk on the 3" wide window sill behind the booth we are sitting at, who subsequently fall down onto the booth we are sitting at and crying for what feels like several minutes while a stranger consoles them until their mother finally realizes where the wailing is coming from and that it is, indeed, her spawn.<br />Thank you.<br /><br />I would like to thank the parents who teach their children <strong>not </strong>to climb the outside fence of the Playplace. You know, the one that says "do not play on fence". Yes, that one. Thank you.<br /><br />In addition, it is my pleasure to thank those parents who made today's outing the most eventful and interesting hour of my week. Thank you.<br /><br />Lastly, but certainly not least, I want to thank the parents who follow through on a playdate <strong>they</strong> set up with a certain three-year-old boy who gets very upset when he is told for three days that his friend will be having lunch with him in Paradise...er...McDonald's... I would also like to thank that same parent for calling to tell me they will not make it to said playdate. A very special thank you for that.<br /><br /><br />You know...maybe I just shouldn't have gone out in public today.<br /><br />Smooches,<br />Buttercupyaya<br /><br /><br />P.S. that may have been less catty, but the snark? I will always give you a bit o' the snark! You're welcome.Buttercupyayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01370920178411046494noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2297739997164770377.post-59501935983041600982010-02-17T15:28:00.001-08:002010-02-17T15:29:30.693-08:00Wordless Wednesday: Puppy Love<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZc7MM62E_CplquKeYxrZc7kIoMMZwsfQ47roKLJgXklfrzw4ZLoThDtd7KMUy0nD_t4pfEv5lICYD6oZqCmXaMLvLyw6vSHXD_N2DUCrQVxnWQfxcIu8O81b7TVszdOx6F_ycVHJz/s1600-h/101_2866vinblsum.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439358502771697266" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZc7MM62E_CplquKeYxrZc7kIoMMZwsfQ47roKLJgXklfrzw4ZLoThDtd7KMUy0nD_t4pfEv5lICYD6oZqCmXaMLvLyw6vSHXD_N2DUCrQVxnWQfxcIu8O81b7TVszdOx6F_ycVHJz/s400/101_2866vinblsum.jpg" /></a><br /><div></div>Buttercupyayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01370920178411046494noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2297739997164770377.post-42207408113072650972010-02-16T12:40:00.000-08:002010-02-16T12:45:29.990-08:00{Quickie} Fast & FunnyScene: driving down Highway 99 in South Everett<br /><br />The Girl: Mom, what is <em>Honey's</em>.<br />Me (fully anticipating the look of horror that would elicit from her face upon answering): a strip club<br />The Girl: EWWWWWWW!<br />The Boy (without missing a beat): I want you take me to Honey's, Mommy. I <strong><em><u>love</u></em></strong> it.<br /><br />We laughed.<br />We laughed <strong>hard</strong>.<br />Seriously.Buttercupyayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01370920178411046494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2297739997164770377.post-37960610061622621642010-02-15T00:25:00.000-08:002010-02-15T00:25:12.513-08:00365 Days and CountingHappy Birthday my sweet Girl.<br />She's 12 today. And counting the days to being a teenager.<br /><br />I have so many messages I hope she hears (both spoken and unspoken).<br /><u>Here are a few I hope get through:</u><br /><br />~Don't rush to grow up; there is no rewind feature for life.<br />~Just be a kid; allow yourself that indulgence.<br />~Study hard. School is valuable, even if it doesn't seem like it now.<br />~Laugh. Laugh hard and <strong>often.</strong><br />~Cry. Cry whenever you want and for as long as you want. It's perfectly acceptable.<br />~Make lots of different kinds of friends. Don't put all your focus on only one friend. Learn when they aren't your friend anymore and let them go.<br />~Make your own choices; even the difficult ones.<br />~Ask for help. You are <strong>not</strong> alone in this life.<br />~Forgive. Forgive yourself and forgive others.<br />~Trust. Trust us to support you in every way. Learn how and when to trust others.<br />~Love. Love yourself. Love others. Love yourself some more. Love life.<br />~Have fun! Have so much fun you have to sort through the stories when you recount them to your children and grandchildren because telling them all would take too long.<br /><br /><u>My end of the bargain:</u><br /><br />~I will let you "just be a kid". In fact, I will <strong>fight</strong> for it. Even when that makes you angry. At the same time allowing you to grow up...I know that is, and will continue to be, the hardest part.<br />~I will still check your homework and keep up with your teachers and <em>be involved in your life</em>. I will encourage you to do her best, and understand and accept when you have.<br />~I will laugh hard. And often. Even when its embarrassing and inappropriate.<br />~I will cry; showing you that it is perfectly acceptable to do so.<br />~I will have a variety of friends. And be an example of how to let them go...healthily.<br />~I will make the difficult choices. And the easy ones. And own them.<br />~I will show you how to ask for help. And how to be okay with it.<br />~I will work on forgiveness, and understand that nobody is perfect, not even me. (Maybe I'll learn how to forgive myself in the process.)<br />~I will continue to learn how to trust. Even trust myself.<br />~I will love you! Unconditionally. Forever.<br />~We will have fun! I will have fun <em>with</em> you, <em>around</em> you and even <em>without </em>you. But rest assured, fun will be had. There will be stories to recount to you; and when you ask a million times, I will continue to repeat them.<br /><br />Happy Birthday, my amazing, beautiful Girl.<br />I love you.<br /><br />Now, I gotta go...I have promises to keep.<br />And 365 days to keep at bay.<br /><br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438376470238756850" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2nVvRMKTxNYL-zWmqcvlCAQkR6UmMFUHBrpGtZWQqu2jdQU1_IL-dxBZyxbxVmE-zVUe0BBpIbFP8ccGDNQiWRXvupsZM1EmPz2ZwIpBYYh63qxd3G6P0BG1SlPIZxUPkGl4uYkid/s400/100_2492bwb.jpg" />Buttercupyayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01370920178411046494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2297739997164770377.post-89422071459829506482010-02-10T14:12:00.000-08:002010-02-10T14:20:15.442-08:00Wordless Wednesday ~ Like Glass<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtbiDcoPJSyxTvx2vMclvWQDP0nrmVipPG-3ZtKBEczHFMfUcEJVVRVOSIm6_uWObekKs7m6RgSRag3nM9prPDr9zxumK7abnOWpS8r0buSqF6wZDKg8XCSFKw7omhmAI8GKUKVR-s/s1600-h/100_2185.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436743096494083042" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtbiDcoPJSyxTvx2vMclvWQDP0nrmVipPG-3ZtKBEczHFMfUcEJVVRVOSIm6_uWObekKs7m6RgSRag3nM9prPDr9zxumK7abnOWpS8r0buSqF6wZDKg8XCSFKw7omhmAI8GKUKVR-s/s400/100_2185.jpg" /></a><br /><div></div>Buttercupyayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01370920178411046494noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2297739997164770377.post-13356784097454530072010-02-09T01:24:00.000-08:002010-02-09T01:41:38.780-08:00We Heart Kisses ~ Double DutyThis post serves double duty! <div><div> </div><div>I have been meaning to post pictures of the kids from our Valentine's Day mini sessions...I was doing other clients' photos so I photographed my kids as well. :) Then I visited <a href="http://iheartfaces.blogspot.com/">I Heart Faces </a>today and this week's photo challenge is <a href="http://iheartfaces.blogspot.com/2010/02/week-6-we-heart-kisses-photo-challenge.html">"We Heart Kisses", </a>so it was just the swift kick in the patootie that I apparently needed. So, now you get to see them <strong>and</strong> I get to enter the challenge.</div><br /><div>This one is for <a href="http://www.iheartfaces.blogspot.com/">I Heart Faces</a> (that's where the double duty comes in, remember?) this So here is my entry for the challenge:</div><div> </div><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436173445203393042" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzRcmHFvWL9gpiLHjM-AUtggZKLjmKHnjnozF-qG57UqE8VhZEOYL6SJpttylERUEDjo2WKS6HRZvLrRxnk9cCRyU-4HdL1Xj1EQWkq_56Prj1wpJr8eoOE2JBZrLErxyoNVtA1afg/s400/100_2512sum.jpg" /></div><div>The boy really does love her...he's just going through a stage where, because he knows she <em>hates</em> it, he won't bestow any lip kisses for her (or allow her to give him any!), and physically turns her face (or in this case, he turns HIS face <em>away</em>) so he can have access to her cheek. She laughed so hard! As did the rest of us! Then the "aaaahhhh" and "ooooh! so sweet" comments ensued when he planted a big one on her cheek.<br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436173459515285378" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbUjCL7_c0lOkLqBoT3i0i3_S4tuiC2yqFyEU4VEoy-fTe3zl_CjDgUivsx4T3EIIwEcZlL8iBcfQcghv8wqHoHQkmkJFvuJLpWvDekI3J7B3_keqkxbv3zCVERfqopjcO7t8Y6Wr6/s400/100_2513sum.jpg" /></div><div><div>And this one...is a bonus for your viewing pleasure. Just because it is one of my favorites of the day -- and I like you. :) </div><div> </div><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436173468590693618" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJwcsw57Mq67q945i79Vu14FRUf6cNc_1FcNzXVpshHA3s_LJah_CAxIr3B_e1Mo17CzP9t7L5BuTKcab3HRFjb7QwIos9WlmGQjsnlCcSEUQaMd6RDz9U2gkMNgY8oOtRJsQTXPCL/s400/100_2510vinhoc.jpg" /> I'll post more later...probably on Valentine's Day. :)</div><div> </div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUiaxIyms0le7Hk7wm4K6Rt9reJdfL3FrxyNTUd23L2C8EyuNTDXj4BUtrPSaQo7wXot9cbgg0mUgrkqStSkI09ghdMXS1CoWHeFBRImlYvT-dKfLK2iRoMixfRYn6lTA-wIlt9BEH/s1600-h/I+heart+faces+logo.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 397px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 123px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436173429877480642" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUiaxIyms0le7Hk7wm4K6Rt9reJdfL3FrxyNTUd23L2C8EyuNTDXj4BUtrPSaQo7wXot9cbgg0mUgrkqStSkI09ghdMXS1CoWHeFBRImlYvT-dKfLK2iRoMixfRYn6lTA-wIlt9BEH/s400/I+heart+faces+logo.jpg" /></a> </div></div></div>Buttercupyayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01370920178411046494noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2297739997164770377.post-9688896094726908832010-02-05T20:27:00.001-08:002010-02-05T20:42:44.176-08:00Educational EavesdropIt's rare that the Girl say something embarrassingly funny.<br />Or should I say it used to be?<br />She will be twelve in a couple weeks and every day brings us closer to teenager-hood (including catching on to the naughty innuendo, jumping in on conversations and truly understanding adult conversations...to name a few).<br />Can you hear all the excitement in those statements?<br />No?<br />That's a shame, because I <em>swear</em> it's there.<br /><br />So with all the pre-teen angst and attitude and experiences we've had lately, this shining gem fell right into my lap today. And I was happy once again.<br /><br />While visiting with a rarely seen friend today, the Boy was going incredibly ape-shit. Crying jag, then happy, then crazy, then gloomy...the conversation went just like this:<br /><br />Me <em>(laughing, of course):</em> that boy is bipolar today! Jeez.<br />Kenny laughs.<br />The Girl <em>(accusingly and shocked):</em> Mo-om!<br />Me <em>(confused as to why she would sound like I said something AWFUL):</em> What?<br />The Girl: he is NOT!<br />Kenny and I exchange confused glances; I'm thinking there must be some kind of misunderstanding here...so I ask...oh, yes, I ask.<br />Me <em>(addressing the Girl):</em> What do you think "bipolar" means?<br />The Girl <em>(mortified that I would ask, apparently):</em> you knooooow, that he likes boys <u><em><strong>and</strong></em> </u>girls.<br />Needless to say (but I will anyway), Kenny and I <strong><em>bust up </em></strong>laughing.<br />Me <em>(between gut wrenching laughs):</em> I think you mean bisexual.<br />The Girl: Oh. Yeah.<br /><br />And more laughing from us all, while the Boy looks on confused as to why we are laughing so hard. And explaining, that while there is nothing wrong with being bisexual or bipolar, these two things are VERY different.<br />To which Kenny then says something along the lines of "not really, both take you up and down...wait, I didn't mean it like that...like "one day 'now I like boys'; and the next day 'now I like girls...oh, nevermind"<br /><br />I am sure that 'bipolar' will be substituted in A LOT in future conversations. Because that was hilarious!Buttercupyayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01370920178411046494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2297739997164770377.post-3254168201969802662010-02-03T09:46:00.001-08:002010-02-03T09:47:44.574-08:00Wordless Wednesday<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXG5ld-dSx66h_WFHjMBSt2OeUpTPOvY3AB5X2EDViXLUe3CEVTZVerWWuNOyKf5Lyatm722tn3SADerWFNOJUfyWc1_zi_Hrg50w_2nN63wYOCTUg-daeeX94spidKY0g_wpREqyH/s1600-h/30_365.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5434075220889658962" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXG5ld-dSx66h_WFHjMBSt2OeUpTPOvY3AB5X2EDViXLUe3CEVTZVerWWuNOyKf5Lyatm722tn3SADerWFNOJUfyWc1_zi_Hrg50w_2nN63wYOCTUg-daeeX94spidKY0g_wpREqyH/s400/30_365.jpg" /></a><br /><div></div>Buttercupyayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01370920178411046494noreply@blogger.com0