A Day in the Life
Good morning! It's mid-April, people. This is still happening. I don't have any finished projects or perfectly edited photos to share with you today, but I thought I'd drop in with some sharesies on what we've been up to. I sicced West on Lou this morning to wake her up, which is the best way to wake up, I think we can all agree. Yes, she's in my bed. I'm not sure when that happened last night/this morning, but it's cool. Bret's in the middle of a two-week trip to China, which shakes things up around here. We usually go to dinner the first night Bret leaves. I mean, I usually go thrift shopping and then treat us to dinner (#resale therapy), but it's nospendApril, so I settled for just dinner this time. We went with Chinese.
My kids really like noodles, and are ridiculously messy eaters. Anyway, although I am incredibly lucky to have my sister living with us right now and serving as a bench hitter, things are of course tough when Bret's gone. I usually reach an energy nadir the second Sunday he's gone, which was last night. Which means things are looking up!
Meanwhile, this kid. Just in case it somehow hasn't bled through on this blog, I'm a proud feminist. So is my little lady here. When I spotted a local designer's glitzy gold proclamation of such, I snatched some up, including one for Lou. In discussing it, we talk about how being a feminist means that boys and girls get to be free to be the people they are. Even if, to put into concrete terms a 5-year-old can understand, a boy likes pink or a girl likes Legos. Sage nodding from Lou, who is not sure what all the fuss is about; she pointed out that one of her best friends, a boy, wears skirts, and she herself, as wardrobe director, has outfitted Westley with a number of bright pink, rainbow-splashed clothing articles. I think it's important to talk about how being a feminist impacts boys too: we've made a fair amount of progress accepting little girls on the soccer field, but little boys who are into My Little Pony still face some askance glances. Anyway, all this is coming to a head. Though her lady bits are not, by any stretch, the only reason, I cannot wait to vote for Hillary - again - tomorrow. A lot of my emotional investment this time around is rooted right here in Lou, and in West. When I think about Louisa and Westley's little lives having thus far only spanned a black president and, hopefully, a female president, I get choked up. I don't have the luxury of thinking about non-booger topics too often, but when I'm on long runs by myself, I do think about it, and it's such a stunning change in our history that I can't help but get emotional. (Note: if you get choked up and weepy while running, people may actually think you are dying).
About those runs: training for the Brooklyn Half, and it's tough. Again, thank goodness for my sister, without whom it would be almost impossible. But it's still such a time commitment! Waking up at 6 am to run is, like, the worst. That said, it's awesome. And keeping me sane, and my running partner, who also has a 1-year-old named Wes, makes my runs great and fun.
When I'm not running, wiping boogies, cooking or cleaning, I'm purging. I can't believe how much sh*t I still have that I don't want. I want to wax all poetic about the Life Changing Magic of Tidying Up and my need to purge whenever things get shaken up a bit, but this is already long and I have to go the laundromat. It's Monday Funday! I hope you're doing super well, that you are/were also excited to vote for your candidate of choice whenever that happens/ed. Oh! And it's a craaaazy week for me, owing in part to the aforementioned shakeup, so if I'm a little MIA please forgive me. I'll get here as early and as often as I can.