delayed reaction...

i can't tell you this story. not the juicy bits.

but i will tell you this: i got a phone call yesterday from a mother. and i don't mean a mother trucker, which was uncle sugar's favorite swear to call adults when he was a little uncle sugar. i mean another mom.

i told you that to tell you this: my initial reaction is always always i'm wrong. you're right. i'll fix. you sit tight. no worries no worries no worries.

that philosophy served me well when we lived overseas. those places never belonged to me, so i always deferred. always. does that make sense?

i guess i continued acquiescing even when we moved home. i still don't feel like this place belongs to me, but i'm working on that. i am.

anyway. this phone call. of course, this woman is all passive aggro. which is fine. whatever. but when i pushed back a little? her response was a vehement no no no! that does NOT sound like MY daughter! i don't believe you.

{i just edited a really juicy bit.}

{and another. maybe three more after that.}

my point, if you're expecting one, is this: know. your. kid.

i was raving to my mary ruffle last night about this - and if you want all the juicy bits, you may ask her to tell you. i don't mind. - and she said something like that part of being a parent is exactly what scares people away from wanting babies: crazy other parents.

but i told her that would be a bad decision. because after phone calls like this one, you and your partner will look at this little person you've made together. in that baby who will always be your baby, you'll see exaggerated versions of your best and, more often than that, your worst. you'll understand exactly what that mother trucker meant when she called to complain, and then you'll giggle. especially when your uncle sugar says something like i know how she is because she's exactly like me...except more like the devil. and then he'll shrug off your worries. remind you that we're making strong girlies three who will never be dependent on other girlies' bad moods or behind-the-scenes mean. and then tell you that you've got to break a few eggs to make an omelet.

{i just deleted a few more juicy bits. plus some swears. that uncle sugar is naughty, did you know? yes, you probably did. calling adults mother truckers when he was seven? i think you've got his number.}

and then, all will be well.

unless you're me.

i hate my initial reaction. i should've pushed back more forcefully. i should've told that woman...i don't know what i could've told a woman like that, but i wish i'd told her...i don't know. i really don't know. and that makes me so mad at myself.

uncle sugar thinks i should've smiled sweetly like i always do - and did - and tell her oh, i know what you're saying! our daughter doesn't suffer fools gladly, but we've been working on this with her!

i like that uncle sugar. very much.

ok. on a different note. i've been raving obsessed about this jamie flannigan who left me a comment or two. her. tumblr. is. insane. check it here. dying. just dying over it. enjoy! and xoxo. thanks for listening to my nonsense. i feel better now.

i'm sorry i've been ignoring you. i've been spending more time with people i could pat on a shoulder or kiss or just brush away a stray sushi bit, if i so desired.

no offense to all my imaginary friends out there, but you and i? we can't really move forward in our relationship until we can pat each other on the shoulder at whim.

we should work on this.

i snuck out for sushi the other night with one of my favorites, and we spent the evening laughing our heads away. just the thought of her makes me want to grab you by the shoulders and look you smack in your sweet browns or clear blues or gorgeous greens and tell you to make sure you have good girlfriends who are more like sisters with every year that passes.

it's a really necessary item for your life. trust.

two shortie stories i wanted to tell you because i want you to giggle like i did:

her husband, who is one of the loveliest men ever made but not exactly the guy who makes a lovely dinner...made dinner. no sides. just the meaty part.

my friend didn't even care. he turned twice as handsome as he already is just by putting that bird in the oven. maybe it was the overnight marinating. either way, she loved it.

so she wasn't going to let the fact that it exploded into tiny black crisps ruin the moment. so they all chewed and chewed with smiles on their faces.

this is really good, she told her husband. she was surprisingly honest.

it's not that bad, her husband agreed. he was honestly surprised.

their four-year old son, though, looked at both of them like they'd lost their minds and declared...

IT! TASTES! LIKE! FIRE!

who says that?! probably the same little guy who looks wistfully at photos of his mom when she was pregnant with his little sister, sighs at the memory of it all, and says...

aww. remember when you ate laila?

oh, you. i hope your day tastes like fire. or just lights up all around you. that'd be a good thing. catch you later. and really. let's work on that sushi date thing. it'd be nice to pat you on your shoulder. xoxo. oh! and in honor of my extra long run this morning, i give you leg inspiration. via just smoke your troubles away.

while my mom was here...

esmé learned how to skip.

nothing earth-shattering, especially for her little age. surely she's years late on this one. but she's lean and lanky and elegant in other moves and i've long left behind those stressed-out milestone and developmental charts. i sort of feel that we all grow up at exactly the right speed.

plus i've never met a thirty-year old who couldn't skip. i have, however, met way too many adults who couldn't hold a conversation - or my interest - like mémé. it's wearing me out.

i thought it beyond lovely that she learned to skip at nordstrom while shopping with my mom. i skip when she's around, too. i may also skip at nordstrom.

freckles and lashes brought to you by malicious mallory. beautiful blog, really. oh! and remind me to tell you about the sweeterie. tomorrow or the next day, ok?

this quote is killing me today...

feeling a little melancholy today. only one more day with my mom and i'm quite the baby.

i wish she could stay forever.

see you in a few days, ok? ok, then. xoxo.

scatterbrained deadlines...

i think this post's title says all i really need to tell you.

i'm smack in the midst of a few assignments, but i wanted to pop in and spill a few words.

my mom is coming to visit us tomorrow and we are crazy-excited. i've painted my toenails indigo. i've eaten very very red meat for the past three days...i think in anticipation of the chill, don't you? i've got to find a minute to tell you about the sweeterie and t.ruffle girls, but i can't find the minute just yet. esmé sings all the time now. mostly, she sings songs about her dolls and how they're going to taser each other. and then she unexpectedly pokes us in the belly. this makes uncle sugar so mad that he starts yelling about THERE'S NO TASERING ALLOWED IN MY HOUSE and when he's really upset HOUDINI DIED BECAUSE SOMEONE TASERED HIM! i don't think that last part is true, nor is the first part, either, because there is definitely tasering happening in his house, still. i bought the sexiest dress, like, ever sold at zara. and it's not black. and someone gave me the sweetest compliment yesterday when she told me you always look so comfortable. so easy. she wondered if it was because i exclusively wore jersey in varying shades of black. i replied that it would certainly explain the comfortable part, but that the easy part was a little too personal. seeing as how we'd only recently met and all.

in other news, i heard the saddest story about little girls who were with their father when he died. the very final minutes. and it brought me straight back to when my own dad died. i remember my very first thought was but who will love me forever now? it was beyond a lonely time, and my stomach still clenches when i revisit it.

anyway. i remember talking to one of my English professors, who was also a priest. long story a little shorter, i can still see myself shaking my head and trying not to cry and asking why those final moments are so...violent. i can't think of another word. i'm sorry.

think about it, he said calmly. the body and the soul have been in love with each other for their entire lifetime. they can't live without each other, but they know they have to part. and it's painful to say goodbye.

ugh. still breaks my heart and pieces it back together all at once. isn't it a reassuring explanation? i thought so, too.

have a sweet day, you. xoxo. photo from capture the castle. i bet people tell her she looks comfortable and easy, too. hee.

housemaids...

we had a sitter called meow last night.

that name made me wish i had one more mackin girlie to name.

she was sweetheart thai, and reminded the girlies three of a housemaid they had somewhere along the way. instant love.

when we first moved back to the states, grae thought and thought about our new life. one day, after a month or two of watching, she decided that having a housemaid was not a good thing. that people should be responsible for themselves and their messes.

of course, you know that lillie and i looked at her like she'd lost her ever-loving mind.

when uncle sugar and i left last night, i saw grae gather up her dolly medical kit and announce to meow, ok. you're dying. i'm going to be your doctor. open up.

people should be responsible for themselves and their messes, but it's also a treat to have someone every once in a while who's fully committed to saying yes to every one of your questionable whims.

i would probably say yes more to questionable whims if i were paid meow's wages, wouldn't you?

do you yay!everyday? that first pic looks like the girlies three when we came home last night. and the second just sends me to the moon with its elegance, yes? love it.

costume {or just plain old bad} idea...

i am all about the esmé dahlia these days, aren't i? my apologies. that girlie is all-consuming to me.

she's experiencing a mean blend of allergies and cold symptoms plus one aggro cough. the little area under her nose has suffered the most.

i told her she looks like she has a moustache, and she just giggled, waved me off, and said well, at least i don't have a beard!

very true. thankful she did not inherit her father's ability to grow a respectable beard in less than ten minutes.

speaking of uncle sugar, he thinks we can color it in black and she can dress up as hitler for halloween.

{crickets.}

there's nothing else to tell you except happy weekend! and that this necklace makes me happy, even though i do not like necklaces. they choke the life out of me. but they look like dahlias, don't they? spotted first on my crack-site {pinterest} but originally on greedy girl and design mom...two more of my crack-sites. i'm sure they'll be pleased to know this. ugh.

this little piggie...

i think esmé is rather sensitive.

this shocks me to no end, because i don't know where the heck she found this trait. although...uncle sugar does get a little weepy when he watches undercover boss. hmmm.

the other day, she asked me how pigs die. i replied that i wasn't exactly sure of the hows. i am, however, all about the whys: bacon is delicious.

she raised her little arms and shouted thank you, piggies, for turning yourselves into great bacon! but i could see through her glee that it really bothered her, especially when she thought about it in terms of mommy pigs and their babes.

just before she turned five, she started crying one night before bed because she never got to give my sister lin a hug before she died. i said but you did! you did! she was the first one to hold you, even!

not a four-year old hug, she protested through her sobs. she would've really liked that.

yes. she would've really liked that. for as wild and as devil-may-care as she was, my sister's heart broke pretty much every seven seconds. it's why she never had babies. she couldn't bear the thought of someone someday being mean or cruel or even just a tad thoughtless with her child. or, for that matter, mine or yours. the very thought of it made her cry a little.

huh. and so now i guess i've finally realized where esmé found this trait.

teaching literacy. ever since she was a little girl, words have danced through her head and in her heart. just one of the things i'm trying to do over here with these girlies three. have a sweet day, you.

click...

hi, you sweetheart little shimmer.

where's an add to shopping basket option when i desperately need one? darn you, pinterest.

guilt...

there's a strange thing going on with me. i'm not craving my espressos anymore.

that's not the strange thing, really. it's more that i feel guilty about no longer being hella enamored with my delonghi and my beans and my gorgeous silsal. they used to be my sun and moon and stars and every dream in between. nightmare, too, if i was out of beans.

i. know. when things are somehow going better-than-well for me, i find guilt in the silliest things. it's such an insane luxury.

do you ever feel like this? supremely undeserving of all the wonderful and totally all well...i brought that on myself, didn't i? when things go south?

a very good reminder for me this morning. thanks for listening. xoxo.

anthony burrill prints found at dirty blonde first. oh! and a friend just suggested i was pregnant, which i am not. but that reminds me of something uncle sugar's mom once told me. "i always knew i was pregnant because for the first three months i couldn't bear to smoke my cigarettes and the taste of my gin tonics nearly made me sick." once this morning sickness subsided, she was apparently good to go! isn't that hilariously old school? i love that story.

well, isn't this the sweetest thing...

imagine it.

lovers affixing locks on some public, somehow agreed-upon and pre-determined space to whisper to the world that the two of them? oh, yes. locked in.

tickled by this more than my heart can tell you. i'm in love with love, aren't you?

have a beautiful weekend, you. special thanks to la flaneuse for finding the above beauty and so much more. xoxo.