Bitties and bits

I think the funniest thing I heard yesterday, was “Happy Birthday, N@ked Boy!” That’s what the Bittiest grandchild got told by BittyBubba (age 3) or BittyCousin (age 2) as 2BDH plunked him down into his highchair, clad only in a diaper, for the ceremonial Destruction of the Cake.

It’s a great line. I am filing it away in the back of my mind (where it will never be seen again) should the day ever arrive when I am married. Until then, all my married friends? feel free to use it annually, with my blessing.

How many middle-aged women do you know who would spend $18 on erasers? The answer is, at least one. Middlest and Fourthborn had a photoshoot with their dolls when Fourthborn flew back in July. A dolly picnic, complete with quilt to sit on, cupcakes, and assorted junk food. Erasers, all.

After the birthday party yesterday, I repurposed a small plastic square space-keeper from the new package of furniture slides which Secondborn slipped under the legs of their couch. I was originally thinking that it would make a cute end table, but then I pried away the layers of padding that were under the plastic, and there was enough adhesive that stuck, to do this:



The burgers would be the size of a small pizza for Chutzpah, but more like an average hamburger for Blessing and Celeste. I was only able to score two milkshakes, three sets of fries, a couple of packages of assorted apples, three ice cream cones, two ice cream sandwiches, and a pineapple. I will hit the Michaels in south Arlington when I am off this week, and ones in BigD and Plano when I go to the temple and the Balloon Festival.

I had no luck in the search locally for more steel crochet hooks. So I will order them online, where I can get them more cheaply anyway. [Tola, thanks for asking. If you do have a spare Boye 2 and Boye 3 (not Susan Bates), let me know. I have all the red aluminum hooks I will probably ever use.]

I am about halfway through the Annotated Pride and Prejudice. I don’t think that Jane Austen would consider me well-bred. And I think I am not as much like Elizabeth Bennet as I would wish, except perhaps for the stubbornness.

The annotator makes the comment that there are few real villains in Jane Austen’s novels. Most of the chaos that ensues is a result of good people making poor choices. And I think that that is a pretty fair description of real life, certainly as I have experienced it.

I don’t think that the children’s father’s paternal grandfather had any idea how much wreckage would follow his choice to leave his wife and four children for another woman. I am quite certain that the children’s father did not wake up one day and decide that he had had quite enough with being responsible and the rest of us could just fend for ourselves. I made the decision to divorce him after much pondering and prayer, knowing that it would cause enormous pain and difficulty for our children, but having faith in their essential goodness and strength. [I have been frequently appalled at the result.] And I do not think that Brother Abacus made a conscious choice to deal with the pain of losing his wife by breaking as many hearts as he could, as quickly as he could.

In a small way, I suppose, he has done me a favor. I am very much more careful about where I bestow my heart, and I am much happier being single than I was in my 20’s. And far more patient about the dating process. And more willing to trust Heaven about the timing.

Last night, on Facebook, there were pictures posted of a group date. The new guy was on it, with one of the other petri dishes, and I just looked at the pictures and smiled. No jealousy. [Yay!] No wishing that I had chosen to ask him. Group dates are really not my thing. This peacefulness-regarding-a-guy is not the norm [for me], but I am thoroughly enjoying it.

And it doesn’t hurt to remind myself that he is cooking dinner for me on Tuesday night.