“What’s your name?”

“Hadley.”

“Oh! I like your name.”

“Thanks. No one has ever really liked my name before. Everyone makes fun of my last name.”

“They do? I’d never make fun your name.”

“Thanks. You wanna play?”

“Yeah!”

********

I told you on the way home how proud I was of you. I’m writing it here because I don’t ever want to forget.

But the truth is there’s no words for how I felt as I watched you and your new friend Hadley at the library. You didn’t know I was listening, so I know you weren’t saying it to appease me.

You said it because that’s who you are.

Amazing.

One year ago I was in Kansas City living a out a fantasy in the halls of Hallmark world headquarters while Heather was back in a hospital with Maddie.

It wasn’t fair.

I didn’t get back to Indy until late that night.

Just before midnight I got a text…”Did you hear about Maddie?”

Less than 24 hours later I was on a plane to L.A.

It was so sunny there.

Now it’s been a year. A whole year. 365 days.

I set up shop to sell prints of some of my favorite images, including this one.

All of the proceeds will go directly to Friends of Maddie.

You can purchase prints here.

You can also donate directly to Friends of Maddie online.

I’ll never forget that little kid. No one should. She was simply too lovely.

Comments Closed-Winner of the giveaway is Angela!  Congratulations!

If thunderstorms are not your thing, the Midwest is not the place for you.

You can feel thunderstorms here in your bones.

The lightning will wake you from a dead sleep and the thunder that follows causes you to flail so quickly your bunk mate usually scores a knee to the gonads or a slap to the face.

Once your heart rate is down to a non lethal level your mind wanders to that little kid sleeping all alone on the other side of the house. You wait for it.

Continue reading “thunder and the moosh. *giveaway*”

*I wrote this post while participating with GoodNites Bedtime Theater, just so you’re aware. xo*

Perhaps no one really pays attention to what a change of seasons does to bedtime, but in our house? I fear it. For several different reasons.

The first reason is my vacuum what what my family does with it while I’m away.

They vaccuum up bugs.

All sorts of bugs, ladybugs, spiders, wasps and flys.

My vaccuum is a cansiter vaccuum and rarely to the sucked up critters die when taken into the canister, since I am the one who empties the canister I am the one pleasantly (not) surprised by dust covered insects clinging to life.

I’ve learned that if I come home to the vacuum in an unusual spot, the kids (meaning Cody and Addie) were probably playing bug vacuum cowboys.

I take a different approach, I scoop them up with tissue and throw them in the toilet.

Continue reading “goodnight sweet sissy.”

Three weeks gluten free.

And you know what?

It’s not so bad.

I really like to cook. Thankfully I know how to cook. And even better I have had the opportunity to have my new Frigidaire Professional Series Range and Microwave to help me along.

When I eat glutenous things now, I get an almost immediate tummyache. But even more interesting? Bread doesn’t even taste good anymore. I’ve tried twice. Yuck.

I’d say for every three tasty gluten free dinners I’ve made there’s been one big fat fail. Like my whole “I’LL LEARN TO MAKE JAPANESE FOOD! JAPANESE FOOD HAS HARDLY ANY GLUTEN!”

Yeah. Japanese food isn’t something you just start cooking. Dried fish flakes? Kelp? Cabbage pancakes? Yeah, Japanese food isn’t for the desperately hungry. Maybe I’ll try again in a year.

I’ve eaten enough asparagus that uh, it’s really obvious that I’ve eaten a lot of asparagus.

When cut properly, leeks look a lot like toenail clippings.

There’s a Japanese root vegetable that looks like semen when it’s grated.

And quinoa? Yeah, quinoa still looks like tiny little condoms.

See?

But by far my biggest accomplishment in this whole gluten free cooking thing is this thing with quinoa that I came up with after modifying another nasty looking recipe.

1 cup quinoa

2 cups broth/stock (or 2 cups water with 2 teaspoons bullion, I usually do beef, but chicken or vegetable would be just as tasty.)

Cook the quinoa in the broth until it’s done (aka looks like little tiny condoms.)

1 medium onion finely chopped.

2 cups mushrooms, stems removed, coarsely chopped.

Saute them in a bit of olive oil and garlic until they the onions are translucent.

Combine the cooked quinoa and vegetables together and add a half cup of heavy cream, a bit of either dried or fresh thyme and parsley. Add salt and pepper to your personal taste.

Nom nom.

This has no meat and yet Cody thinks it’s delicious and wonders why we can’t have it more often.

Eating out for now has lost its luster. I like being home. I like buying and seeing and knowing what is going into my food.

I have started making as many things as possible from scratch. Salad dressings and whipped cream for example.

I used to always make fun of my sister for being all crunchy and healthy.

Now I’m one of those people.

I can taste fake stuff in food, well, maybe not taste it, but food with fake stuff in it doesn’t taste as good.

Somewhere in LA Jessica Gottlieb is screaming all sorts of “I TOLD YOU SO” obscenities at her screen.

In my grandest of ambitions I’m going to try and post a weeks worth of gluten free recipes that are easy to make and actually taste good.

Just try it for a week.

Have your kids help you cook. Gather everyone around the table for dinner.

Promise you’ll notice a difference after a week, even if it’s not the one you were expecting.

I wrote this review while participating in a Test Drive Campaign by Mom Central on behalf of Frigidaire and received a Frigidaire Range/Microwave to facilitate my review.

Cody and I sometimes joke that we are parents to an elderly woman in a five year old body.

She hates loud noises.

She hates candy.

She hates merriment in general.

“How dare you present me with such rubbish! Don’t you know who I am?”

She always has to have a blanket on her lap.

Kids drive her crazy.

Loud music? Can’t stand it.

“Darn you kids and your cheerful gallivanting!“

I took her to the playground today where a bunch of high schoolers on spring break were running amok. Bad words, disrespect for each other and the worst, ignorance to the little kids that were there first.

I silently stewed in my brain. Considered calling their parents. Following them home. Videotaping them.

Bah. They were jerks.

And then one almost knocked my kid off a ladder because he was too busy trying to beat the tar out of another kid.

I went crazy lady loud. If I’ve ever experienced Mama Bear emotions it was in that moment.

All twenty teenagers went dead silent and still, staring open mouthed at the shouty lady poised at the side of the playground.

No one apologized, a few of the girls told the boys to watch out for the little kids.

But for the most part they could have cared less.

I think my generation was kind of the end of the whole “respect your elders” group.

I know I can’t control everything.

But I refuse to let Addie grow up to be a jerk.

She will respect herself.

She will respect others.

She will care for those smaller than her, and hold in high regard those bigger than her.

I’m hoping I’m not alone in this. That other parents out there want the same for their kids. That these “old fashioned values” will again become the norm.

That when Addie plays on a playground with her friends in 11 years she won’t be looked at like a dork for making sure the little kids are okay. That she won’t be ashamed to stand up for herself when others around begin using words that no self respecting person, especially a child, would use.

That she will make modesty cool. That she will take pride in her virtue. That others will look to her as an example.

Adelaide means “of exalted nature.”

I hope she exudes that and more.

I know I can’t keep her innocent forever. But oh, how I treasure her innocence now.

I take it as my challenge and my privilege to raise a young lady.

Even if she already acts like an old grumpy one.

Today is the 5th anniversary of Cody’s 27th birthday.

Meaning Cody is 27.

Again.

For the 5th year in a row.

Happy birthday liar dude.

I got you a nap.

You’re welcome.

According to magazines we are supposed to believe that is is beautiful. That this is how relationships are. That lying around in a bra on the carpet staring wistfully into your partners nipple with your pants undone is not only practical, but that THIS is how romance is done.

Pffbt. This is a relationship. This. This right here is a marriage and a story and love. This is happiness. This is romance. (This is also known as Mishi and her Mike.)

According to magazines this is how young beautiful people hang out after work. You know, in leopard print. At they gym. In heels.

This is friends hanging out. This is what real people do. And I’d much rather be here than up there. (Really, this is my friend Shireen. And I’d take her any day over just about any one in leopard print.)

Reality television and celebrities are showing a whole new generation that marriage is a joke. That it is old fashioned, a waste of time and will make you utterly miserable.

Tell her that. (Her is Katie.)

Best friend in Hollywood? Yeah. We’ve all seen how THAT works out.

This is a little better. (This is her and her.)

Having kids? What a waste of time.  Look how miserable they are. (They are Becky and her baby.)

A long time ago I was told to stop reading beauty magazines. That they will just make me feel fat, ugly and utterly ordinary.

So I stopped reading beauty magazines and started reading your blogs.

And you guys? Are the epitome of beauty.

Thank you. To every single one of you.

(And thank you thank you for sharing your pictures with me.)