First, Lord: No tattoos. May neither Chinese symbol for truth nor Winnie-the-Pooh holding the FSU logo stain her tender haunches.
May she be Beautiful but not Damaged, for it’s the Damage that draws the creepy soccer coach’s eye, not the Beauty.
When the Crystal Meth is offered, may she remember the parents who cut her grapes in half And stick with Beer.
Guide her, protect her when crossing the street, stepping onto boats, swimming in the ocean, swimming in pools, walking near pools, standing on the subway platform, crossing 86th Street, stepping off of boats, using mall restrooms, getting on and off escalators, driving on country roads while arguing, leaning on large windows, walking in parking lots, riding Ferris wheels, roller-coasters, log flumes, or anything called “Hell Drop,” “Tower of Torture,” or “The Death Spiral Rock ‘N Zero G Roll featuring Aerosmith,” and standing on any kind of balcony ever, anywhere, at any age.
Lead her away from Acting but not all the way to Finance. Something where she can make her own hours but still feel intellectually fulfilled and get outside sometimes And not have to wear high heels. What would that be, Lord? Architecture? Midwifery? Golf course design? I’m asking You, because if I knew, I’d be doing it, Youdammit.
May she play the Drums to the fiery rhythm of her Own Heart with the sinewy strength of her Own Arms, so she need Not Lie With Drummers.
Grant her a Rough Patch from twelve to seventeen.Let her draw horses and be interested in Barbies for much too long, For childhood is short – a Tiger Flower blooming Magenta for one day – And adulthood is long and dry-humping in cars will wait.
O Lord, break the Internet forever, that she may be spared the misspelled invective of her peers And the online marketing campaign for Rape Hostel V: Girls Just Wanna Get Stabbed.
And when she one day turns on me and calls me a Bitch in front of Hollister, Give me the strength, Lord, to yank her directly into a cab in front of her friends, For I will not have that Shit. I will not have it.
And should she choose to be a Mother one day, be my eyes, Lord, that I may see her, lying on a blanket on the floor at 4:50 A.M., all-at-once exhausted, bored, and in love with the little creature whose poop is leaking up its back. “My mother did this for me once,”she will realize as she cleans feces off her baby’s neck. “My mother did this for me.” And the delayed gratitude will wash over her as it does each generation and she will make a Mental Note to call me. And she will forget. But I’ll know, because I peeped it with Your God eyes.
Oh, and I like this too:
"My love is conditional:
and the condition is, that you don't act like
...because love and friendship=being a yes-man, apparently. Boy, you came to the wrong place, hey?!?
Today is the Santa's Anonymous Toy Run, and there are bikers tearing up the avenue here since 6 this morning! Assholes, quit complaining about the new bike noise bylaw. You brought it on yourself.
I am going to pick up my mom so that we can go to the mall and see the sea of bikes and toys...it honestly doesn't do any justice to post pictures, but I will still try to get a few pictures up later. Love seeing those big bikers with big teddy bears strapped to their bikes.
I really don't want to be the only wife following behind the pack in a car with my mom, but whatever. I want to see the bikes.
Kylie is riding with Scott today. It only took her half an hour to curl her hair and put on makeup...possibly because she thought Scott's friend was bringing his son...gone are the days where she doesn't give a crap how she looks I guess!
My alley sounds like a Mad Max movie right now. The neighbours have their Harleys out...pretty soon the bikers across the street will get their bikes out. That is, if they can haul their butts out of bed on this fine Sunday morning. 930 on a Sunday is way too early for the biker crowd.
Ooh, oh!! Here's a link to this year's pictures (blogger kicked me out after I wrote this so I couldn't publish until Monday): Motorcycle Toy Run 2011
What a gorgeous day! We spent the day at the zoo, but as usual, there was nothing to see. Our zoo stinks, seems like the animals are always so far away that you can't take their picture...or they're sleeping, all rolled up in a ball under a rock or something. Can you tell I'm not a fan of our zoo? 95% of the animals are brown so they blend into those rocks and dead grass pretty well. We have a prairie dog exhibit. Come on now.
The big kids started school last Thursday and so far are really happy with their teachers. Kylie's school is way, way under populated and on the verge of being shut down, I fear. Oh well, it was bound to happen. The school is falling apart anyway.
Kylie, first day of grade 8. Last year I couldn't get her to comb her hair when she got up in the morning. Now she has to get up early to trowel her makeup on.
Jacob, first day of grade 5. We freezer-paper stencilled the shirt with a tie that reads "epic", his favourite word. Things are either "awesomely epic" or "epic fail" in his books. Nothing in-between.
Sam starts preschool on the 13th. I don't think she needs it, per se...I don't think any kid 'needs' preschool, but she is incredibly social and it's driving my nuts. Do you have any idea how hard it is to be anti-social and introverted like myself when you have a kid who is the complete opposite?!? So she will go to preschool to fill that need she has to be with other kids. I can stay if I want, or I can use that time to shop or exercise or whatever. Two hours, two mornings a week.
I'm going to start working Mondays soon, a full day. The opportunity came up and I really like the work so I thought I should take it. Turns out the office is closing for two whole months this winter so I guess I should make some money while I can :( .