I was going to say 'I have nothing to say' today, and then I checked my mailbox to find a lovely card from
ccah! Thank you! *bounce* So I do have something to say. It's a lovely day in Portland, warmish and not too humid.
I just realized that Sean will be three this fall. Three. I know, days go by at the rate of one (cancel the units, one day per day) but ... it all got ahead of me somehow. A three year old. Jeez.
His group starts up again next week after one of their summer breaks. I keep telling myself I should go. I should go. He needs the therapy and it won't hurt me to network and chat the therapists. I just ... some of the parents really spook me, to tell the truth. But then, I've never been one to fit in with the crowd. I don't fit well with the ones that totally have no lives other than their children and like it that way, that feel that every single waking moment needs to be focused 125% on their kids. I just can't go like that. Maybe it's because I've seen the disastrous end of that kind of overprotective hypercaregiver syndrome, first with my ex and then with Chris's mother.
I just opened my first box from Lush. Holy crap. Those bath bombs are as big as baseballs.
We got, among others, the Sex Bomb. I'll let you know if it works. ;-) (Actually, truth be told you'll likely have to read between the lines to see if it works, because I'm like that.)
My whole living room smells like bath bomb now.
Hmm. Trying to decide where we should go on our next date night. Probably not a movie, because we both want to see Life of Brian when the rep place is showing it week after next, and I have a very limited theatre attention span.
Things that mess me up every time: Thanksgiving in November. 4th of July. I just forget about them. Them's the breaks of being an expat, I suppose.
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I just realized that Sean will be three this fall. Three. I know, days go by at the rate of one (cancel the units, one day per day) but ... it all got ahead of me somehow. A three year old. Jeez.
His group starts up again next week after one of their summer breaks. I keep telling myself I should go. I should go. He needs the therapy and it won't hurt me to network and chat the therapists. I just ... some of the parents really spook me, to tell the truth. But then, I've never been one to fit in with the crowd. I don't fit well with the ones that totally have no lives other than their children and like it that way, that feel that every single waking moment needs to be focused 125% on their kids. I just can't go like that. Maybe it's because I've seen the disastrous end of that kind of overprotective hypercaregiver syndrome, first with my ex and then with Chris's mother.
I just opened my first box from Lush. Holy crap. Those bath bombs are as big as baseballs.
We got, among others, the Sex Bomb. I'll let you know if it works. ;-) (Actually, truth be told you'll likely have to read between the lines to see if it works, because I'm like that.)
My whole living room smells like bath bomb now.
Hmm. Trying to decide where we should go on our next date night. Probably not a movie, because we both want to see Life of Brian when the rep place is showing it week after next, and I have a very limited theatre attention span.
Things that mess me up every time: Thanksgiving in November. 4th of July. I just forget about them. Them's the breaks of being an expat, I suppose.