It’s been a rollercoaster week for my pride. Last Saturday someone at the church paint day asked if I was in the youth group. I puffed out my feathers like a peacock that someone would think I was a youth when in reality I am on the brink of a new decade that starts with a th and ends with a irty. My hair was up (there is no other way to wear your hair when it’s regularly 99* degrees) and I was pleased she didn’t notice the patch of grayish white hair behind my ear. And it’s not white because we were using white paint and I accidentally got some on my head. 


Yesterday a nurse was getting my information and said, “You’re yawning a lot. Do you have a living will?” Excuse me? First of all, I was coughing not yawning. Second of all, I fail to see how yawning and a living will are related. Turns out she had said, “You’re young but do you have a living will?” It would seem my ears are aging rapidly and I need to make an appointment with an audiologist asap.


I picked up a new Hallmark dvd at the library on Tuesday. I love Hallmark movies. The cheesier the better. I could not love Hallmark Christmas movies more. The dvd has three movies which is three times the romance and predictability. Christopher watched one with me because he owes me for all the action/James Bond/boring documentaries movies I’ve sat through over the years. Least you think he shares my joy of Hallmark, he does not. He sat there on his phone and made comments like, “That’s so cheesy they should call this movie Swiss Cheese” and “It’s obvious they’re going to get married.” I don’t need type of negativity in my life. I want someone to share my tv viewing enthusiasm!


Speaking of tv viewing, we’ve been watching Mr. Roger’s lately. He’s so calm and pleasant to watch. He was talking about how sometimes there are things we don’t understand but we can ask an adult to help us. He asked if the viewers had an adult they could ask. I thought AB would answer that it’s her mother because I’ve taught her everything she knows including, but not limited to, how to use the potty and speak. Who do you think taught her about Monet and artists of the 1800’s? Who do you think sings the continents song with her? Alas, she did not say me. She looked at Mr. Roger’s and without missing a beat said, “I can ask my dad. He knows everything.” 


There’s the mothering self-esteem boost I was looking for!