The one about Steven, virtual P.E., paper gowns and being liked.

Happy Labor Day, Y'all.


We're not doing anything exciting for Labor Day. We're hanging out and relaxing. The Boy is working on Physical Education via Florida Virtual School. No, I'm not joking. Yes, I'm serious - Virtual P.E....Don't ask! (You can't see me, obviously, but I am shaking my head in bemusement right now.)

The Princess is writing another essay for her English class. Mr. Wonderful is sipping his coffee and reading the paper.

Also, Steven is back.

The Boy named him.

He likes us, apparently. I'm sure that it has nothing to do with the fact that The Boy keeps accidentally dropping fish when Steven is around. 

The Princess had a doctor's appointment last week...and she modeled the latest in paper fashion gowns.

If you look at my "followers" on this blog, it says I have 127. The blog's facebook page has 220 "likes." 

Which is awesome and wonderful. Thank you for liking me! I am happy with my fabulous group of followers. Many of you have become friends. I love your comments and I treasure your loyalty. But I have been surprised to learn that I seem to have many more followers than I ever realized!

Here's the thing. Lately, I keep hearing about other people who follow the blog. The kids are always telling me that their friends love it and read it every day. Another of my friends tells me that her mom reads it all the time. I run into acquaintances at Publix who say, "Oh, I love your blog!"

One of the kid's friends said, "I want to come over to your house so I can be on the blog!"

I have to tell you...I am a little, teeny-tiny bit flipped out by this.

Just a little. Because I had no idea! But in a happy and pleased way, of course! Truthfully, I can't stop smiling.

You like me. You really like me!

Thank you!

Critters

One of the best things about living here is the abundance of wildlife we see on a daily basis. It never gets old and we see something new every day. Some creatures are a bit more enjoyable than others. This morning The Boy walked out to the dock to look around and discovered an unwelcome guest hanging around...again!

We don't like this guy hanging around so much. He needs to vamoose. We all went out to the dock and stomped around and made noise, trying to scare him away.

He did swim away.

Unfortunately, we think we know where his home is now.

Our neighbors don't have a bulkhead. They have a lot of weeds and vegetation around their dock. Guess where the 'gator headed?

He swam right over to the weeds and then he disappeared. We think he (she?) has a nest in there. 

We were discussing our new, not so nice neighbor when this little guy flew onto our dock...

He started walking towards us...

And he sat about a foot away, cocking his head and listening to us talk...

He was so close that I could have reached out and touched him. 

I didn't though....that beak looked mighty sharp!

When the kids started to walk back to the house, he started following them. Even though he was adorable and had the cutest little greenish feet, we didn't think it would be a good idea for him to come in the house. Jack and Lucy probably wouldn't have been as enthusiastic as us.

So The Boy threw the cast net out and caught a few mullet and it's possible that he might have accidentally dropped a couple of mullet on the dock...sort of near our new friend...and our new friend may or may not have eaten them. Which probably wouldn't have been a smart thing to do, had it not been completely accidental, which it totally was!  Because we all know better than to feed the wildlife.

 We did some research (we googled) and we think he is a juvenile green heron. He should look a bit like this as an adult...

Our new little friend is so cute...the other one, not so much.

"Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it."

I woke up this morning knowing that the house needed to be cleaned, and that there was a big pile of laundry waiting to be done. The grass needed to be cut, the dishwasher needed to be emptied, and there were just a million other things that needed to be taken care of.


But the sun was out and the birds were singing and the kids and I decided to go do something fun instead of being responsible.

There is an arts market under one of the bridges every Saturday. I've been wanting to go check it out for a while, but something always seems to come up. Today the kids and I headed down there and we loved it!


There were people selling art and pottery and soap. There was someone selling pickles and olives and someone else selling herb plants. There was homemade pita bread (I bought some spinach pita bread) and honey and spaghetti sauce. There were beautiful wooden bowls and jewelry and paintings. There was a market area with beautiful tomatoes and watermelons and cucumbers.


And it smelled delightful. There were booths selling pizza and hotdogs and kettle corn and funnel cakes. It seemed as though everyone brought their dogs. We stopped to say hello to a trio of labradoodles and an adorable Benji type mutt with the cutest face you've ever seen. And then we saw an Old English Sheepdog. He was beautiful and reminded us so much of our Rags. He even had one brown eye and one blue eye.


We shopped for a while and then we dithered over what wonderful smelling food to eat. The Princess had the pulled pork sandwich...

And I had Calypso Chicken with black beans and rice...

The Boy had bratwurst. Frankly, it looked kind of gross to me. It was covered in peppers and onions and sauce (Just LOOK at his hands!) and it looked really messy. But he inhaled it before I could get a picture of it, so I guess he enjoyed it!

We sat near the water and enjoyed the nice breeze while listening to the band play...

Then we walked around some more and bought some pickles and olives and lettuce. We sipped our drinks and looked at the art and watched someone make balloon animals. We saw a man walking around with a macaw on his shoulders. We saw more dogs - we're definitely bringing Lucy the next time we go.

It was fun.

I loved spending the day with the kids. 

When we got home we started cleaning. Because, unfortunately, the mess was still waiting here for us when we arrived home.

Well, some of us cleaned.

One member of the household just sat and tossed her ball around waiting for someone to play with her.

(Bonus points if you can name the movie that the title of this post is from)

You is kind. You is smart. You is important.

Dear Princess,


I am so proud of you and of the young woman you are becoming. I hate seeing you discouraged. It breaks my heart to see you hurting.

Ever since you were a little girl you have loved to dance. It made you happy. You have worked so hard and sacrificed so much to become a better dancer. You are disciplined and dedicated and seeing how happy dancing made you has made all the sacrifices worth it for your father and I.

You have experimented with other activities - gymnastics and rhythmic gymnastics and piano and art - but you have always come back to dance. It is what makes you happy.

Lately though, we've seen you become discouraged. You disparage yourself and your talent. You criticize yourself and say that you are not good enough. 

Dancing doesn't seem to make you happy anymore.

I long for the days when I could gather you in a big hug and kiss your worries away. I wish I could tell those mean girls who roll their eyes and act condescending to you that I think they are just jealous of you. I wish I could protect you from all the mean girls in the world. I wish I could shelter you from the self doubt and frustration that I see on your face.

I know that this is all a part of growing up, but I hate it. I wish I could make you see what a wonderful person you are. You are beautiful and smart. You are kind and generous. You are my amazing, talented daughter and I love you so much.

Dancing SHOULD be fun. It should be a joyous expression of your emotions and your soul. It shouldn't be frustrating. If it is becoming that for you, maybe it's time to move in another direction. There are so many forms of dance that you still have to experience.

Please don't give up, Princess.

Please don't be frustrated or angry at yourself.

You are special and amazing and fabulous.

Anyone who can't see that is a fool!

Believe in yourself. Try to find that spark of joy inside you when you dance. Do it for you, not for them.

Dancing should give you the same feeling of contentment and satisfaction as a big ol' chocolate ice cream cone.

Precious Princess, have faith in yourself and your abilities. You amaze me with your work ethic and dedication and talent. 

You is kind.

You is smart.

You is important.

(Aibilene, The Help)

And don't you ever forget it.

Mr. Wonderful

When Mr. Wonderful and I met, I was 23 years old - almost 24, and he had just turned 30.

We married when I was 26 and he was 32.

Believe it or not, Mr. Wonderful wasn't always so wonderful. He has always been sweet and kind and a lot of fun...but sometimes his irreverence and his humor could go a bit too far.

We've been married almost 22 years and I have been working on him all that time! 

(There is absolutely no reason for this picture, except that I just found it and it made me laugh! This is me a few days before The Boy was born. And, by the way, that is a bathing suit under that big ol' muu-muu. I look like I swallowed a beach ball. An 8 lb. 1 oz. beach ball.)

Mr. Wonderful hasn't always gotten the concept of birthdays and anniversaries. On our first anniversary he gave a single red rose and promised to give me a rose for each year we were married on our anniversary. It was a very sweet and romantic gift. And he did get me a rose each year on February 13th - our anniversary. Until it started to get expensive (think a dozen roses the day before Valentine's Day). My anniversary roses started coming later and later (usually after much nagging and sighing in a martyr-like fashion by me). One year I didn't get my anniversary roses until May. He meant to do it sooner - but he IS Dutch and you just can't argue with those cheap frugal Dutch genes!

One year when Mr. Wonderful was gone for my birthday, he came home from a trip to Paris. He tossed a balled up t-shirt from the Louvre at me and said, "Oh, here, Happy Birthday" as he walked away.  I responded with, "Are you kidding me?" and he, looking baffled, said, "What?"

I tried to explain my annoyance, "Seriously? I've been stuck here with two little kids...making lunches and wiping runny noses and YOU WENT TO THE LOUVRE?!! And you just tossed me a flipping t-shirt and think THAT is a birthday present?"

And then...then HE said, "What's the big deal? It's just a birthday."

Well.

That didn't go over very well with me. 

I admit that it's possible that I may have been a wee bit hormonal. I might have been tired and slightly cranky from being stuck at home with two young children. It's true that there may have been extenuating circumstances...but I was extremely annoyed with Mr. Not So Wonderful.

I created a "bill" with a list of everything I did and the equivalent cost - housekeeper, taxi driver, cook, nanny, etc. I gave it to him and said, "Really? You can't even get me a gift for my birthday and ACT like you care??" Mr. Not Very Wonderful At All...laughed at me.

I didn't speak to him for almost a week. After about 5 days, he finally figured out that I really was angry and hurt. He called my best friend and explained the situation (which, naturally, she already knew about) and asked her what he should do. She told him that he had really screwed up...and it was going to cost him.

The next day a very contrite Mr. Wonderful gave me a lovely pair of earrings and a gift certificate for a spa day. He was loving and sweet and told me how much I meant to him and promised to never ignore my birthday or make fun of it again. He made me a card and signed it, humorously, "Mr Wonderful."

And he is. He ALWAYS remembers my birthday and our anniversary...now. He ALWAYS gets me a gift - and puts a lot of thought into it...now. It may not always be a gift of jewelry (I'm really not a big jewelry person, anyway!) - but it is always something I've mentioned that I like or want. Mr. Wonderful is a good gift giver. Now.

Who says you can't teach an old dog new tricks?