[All photos courtesy USA Judo unless otherwise noted. Face plant courtesy Katelyn.]
Forgive me if I may seem a little…bragadocious…today. I think you’ll understand.
It’s just that my 16-year-old cousin Katelyn returned from Singapore this week. What was she doing there, you ask?
Oh…winning Youth Olympic gold medals. Making history. That’s all.
This summer, I’ve made a conscientious effort to mindfully appreciate all of the beauty that is a summer rain storm. And there’s no better way to appreciate it than to drench yourself in it.
I just want to give the people what they want. So when the people tell me they want my cheesy cod puree recipe, I’m-a-gonna give ’em my cheesy cod puree recipe.
Growing up with my sister was very similar to what I imagine it would be like to grow up with Licensed Joyologist Helen Madden: complete with flutter kicks and declarations of “I love it, I love it, I love it!”
Erika (Reiko Von Suavee Bola Meister, for short) has been seeking beauty and sucking the marrow out of it ever since she came screeching into our lives, six weeks before her scheduled arrival, 27 years ago today.
Every holiday, every year, when my sister and I ask our dad what we can get for him, his answer is always the same: a “Life is Good” t-shirt.
He’s a “Life is Good” kinda guy. An amiable, trusting-of-strangers kinda guy. A laughs-at-his-own jokes kinda guy.
This father’s day, I’d like to thank my dad for the gajillion things he has done to make my life so good. But I’m a Don’t-Wanna-Lose-My-Readers kinda blogger, so I’ll tie this into a bigger message.
Three hours before my husband proposed, he had me in tears.
Sad tears. Not happy tears.
Stroller shoppers: I can save you a lot of time, if you’ll let me.
[Brief word of caution: if you are not in the market for a stroller, this post may induce boredom tears. Or stroller-envy tears. Or both. Allow me to distract you with a post that applies to stroller-users and non-stroller-users alike. Maybe this one? Or this one?]