Summertime

When we first learned we were moving to DC, the first thing everyone asked was, "Do you know it gets cold there?" That was quickly followed by "It rains there. Do you know it rains there?" My response was the same each time - I've spent most of my life in the midwest, so I was excited to live in a place where there are distinct seasons. We don't have many white Christmases in Texas, and the trees have to get a break from scorching sun before leaves can change colors and fall. (Well, they fall. It's just a pile of dead, brown leaves. Not so picturesque.) I never did get used to the cold or like the rain, but I did enjoy seeing the beauty of the changing seasons. (And if clarification is needed: by changing seasons, I mean changing fashion seasons. Uggs to pumps to wedges to riding boots and back to Uggs...the circle of life according to Regina.)

What I know is what all those friends knew about me when they first asked the question. I'm a summer girl. I would much rather endure 120 degrees in the summer than 20 below in the winter. I will always be more happy in a tank top and shorts than layers of clothes under layers of coats. Because that's what I have to do to stay warm. [I'm] a tropical people. (That's a movie reference. I'll send a Starbucks gift card to the first person who can name the movie.)

What I also know is that living in DC gave me even more appreciation for what I love. Summertime is beautiful but it's that much brighter when it comes on the heels of a rainy spring. Summertime is warm but it's warmth is that much more appreciated when you have experienced the bitter cold of winter. You can love something and become so familiar with it that you take it for granted. When seasons of life change and shift away from what you prefer, remember that the dark times are the times that make the sun shine brighter when it returns.

Because she is mine. And I am hers.

I know you think I make her up. I know you think Brynna Grace is a cool name I thought up then gave an overly dramatic, adorably bossy personality and hired an actor to portray. Seriously, though. How cute is the actor I hired??

As proof she is all mine, here you go...

Exhibit A
Me: We need to get ready to go.
BG: Why, are we late?
it's just assumed...

Exhibit B
Me: We are going to do something fun today.
BG: I can't wait! I'm going to wear my pink shoes!
no idea where we're going, but she's planning her shoes

Exhibit C
Me: We are going to the grocery store.
BG: But it's raining outside.
Me: I know, but we need milk.
BG: But my hair will get wet.
sometimes I wonder if she looks in the mirror and sees a black woman with a relaxer.
ps...we went without milk for that day

Exhibit D
Me: We are both sick and need to take a day to rest and get better.
So far she has played dress up, doll house, worked 3 puzzles, had lunch and colored
I've made a listing brochure, done the dishes, paid bills, made all the beds and straightened the house

She is mine. And I am hers.

18 Questions I want to ask Brynna

1. Why?
2. Are you serious?
3. Really?
4. Where did you get the idea to "decorate" the house by tying all the doors closed with ribbons, cords and scarves?
5. Seriously...why?
6. Where is my other nude pump?
7. Where is my black scarf?
8. Who are Zasey and Cayzon?
9. Why are Zasey and Cayzon always in trouble?
10. Why does it require screaming when Zasey misbehaves?
11. Is Zasey hard-of-hearing?
12. Are YOU hard-of-hearing? (that would actually explain a lot)
13. Where did you learn to be so bossy? (Scratch that. Don't answer that one.)
14. Why were/are you so opposed to being a little kid?
15. Where are you in a hurry to get?
16. A dress every day?
17. Is it necessary to change clothes 3 times a day?
18. Do you have a speed other than fast? (Don't answer these either. Maybe this wasn't a good idea...

Deep Thoughts at 2am

How can college-educated men excel professionally yet struggle to remember to put a bag in the trashcan?

Regardless of his trash bag installing abilities, I'm so proud he's mine. Even when I want to shake him. I'm grateful I get to do the shaking and not someone else.

I wonder how many times a week day he wants to shake me? (I'm sure rarely, if ever...)

Speaking of wanting to shake someone...
God patiently waited before I believed. God patiently waited until I was ready to be honest. God patiently waited for me to be obedient. God patiently waits. Yet the minute I don't have answers I don't want to wait. And I certainly don't want to be patient.
...I wonder how many times a day hour He wants to shake me?

Shaking aside. On a serious note. I'd like to make a worldwide amendment. All signs, references and descriptors labeled "kid-friendly" should be removed. Let's just call a spade a spade and put "adult-unfriendly" on the signage.

Who first had the brilliant idea to put a play area at the mall? That person should be shot.

I love boots but my feet miss heels. Especially peep-toe ones.

I need a pedicure.

I need sleep. I've got to get up tomorrow in a few hours and put a bag in the trashcan and then wait patiently while my child plays with her buddy at Chick-Fil-A (where the play area is at least enclosed).

Soundproof glass - now THAT'S adult-friendly!