OK dolls, we hit our stride for a stretch there - without dear Twinks carrying the load for once -- even Lola in on the action via blog as well as Twitter. But we've ground to a halt and I take responsibility for starting another round up. I've been busy at work and don't have much exciting to say, so this will be a series of short comments.
* First item from my trip to NC last weekend: we spent one night with Dad and Co., and although it mostly went very well (we hogged the conversation at dinner with funny stories about Mr. J's cousin and the Redneck Wedding, and thus avoided any political/ religious lectures from the Dadster), there was one moment that took me aback. As my baby sister was crossing the room to the couch, my stepmom (a lovely woman and devoted mother) said: "I'm starting to see a little hint of a tummy pooch there, honey. We may have to get you doing some crunches." Y'all. Baby is 13. First of all, she has no pooch (believe me, I know from a poochy tummy). Second, she is 13. Can we not give her an eating disorder, please?
I said, "she's fine!" But now I wonder if I should send her some emails about ignoring her mother. On this one issue only, of course.
* Second item from NC. We stayed two days and nights with my college best friend Beauty and her family, and it was such fun. On the long drive home (not nearly as long as it should have been, Mr. J is working on a land-speed record), Mr. J and I were mourning the fact that all one's favorite people don't live in one's own town, and it's so true. Beauty would love the Classic Cocktail. But the silver lining of having Beauty out of town is that we get to stay right in her home when we visit ... it's almost like college dorm life again, for a little while. Plus the men and children, that is.
* Third item: children. A friend here in town had her baby this weekend. So sweet. I am definitely experiencing a sea change as usually newborns scare the wadding out of me, but I held him and everything.
* Fourth item: children, or lack thereof. I'm still on the sauce. Last month was a bust. Mr. J actually took it up with his doctor last week, and she told him, in a nutshell, that we both should focus on this less and he needs less stress, period. I really don't think I was paying attention to how stressed he has been lately, as he works for his dad and works for himself and gets his rental property on the market and travels and tries to attend to the home front. It hit me when he came home from the doctor with three different prescriptions ... one for a stress-related rash, one for high blood pressure (at his age!), and one to quit smoking, which is a topic that stresses him out just to think about it.
* Last item: today is the birthday of the infamous B, whom y'all remember meeting in Hilton Head. Twinks, I still have the photo you scored of my doppelganger, his bride. I must remember to call him later to say happy birthday. It's a funny thing. I have no doubt that I am much happier and better-off generally married to Mr. J than I ever would have been with the B. But I think of him - well, not often, but occasionally, and fondly - in a way I can't put a label on and don't know that I will bother to try.
Next!
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