november 12th

It's the 12th. Can you believe it? Thanksgiving is only a couple of weeks away.

I warned you about time speeding up after Halloween. It happens every year. I'm already starting to stress about getting everything done. I'm doing some serious self talk about deep breathing and simplifying.

Today we have the last meeting with our social worker before the adoption is final.

I'm going to admit something here that I wouldn't tell just anyone.

I'm not excited.

Truth be told, it feels like just a formality, protocol, an inconvenience. Don't these people know how busy we are around here?

I don't need the courts to tell me who my children are. That's the Lord's job.

photo credit goes to the unknown, they are antique

coming home

Music Playlist at MixPod.com

Let me set the scene.

Sugar Daddy pitted against a large L.A. firm with lawyers so slick their suits glimmered in the sunshine. It was an ugly, personal struggle. It was family members on either side of the fight. Millions were at stake and an 85 year old mother was relying on Ben and his partner to bring justice to light.

This is what it meant to our family:

No daddy for three weeks.

He worked all day every day and I awoke in the wee hours of the night to find him finally returned to me, tired and beat.

In the morning he'd be long gone.Yesterday was magical. Yesterday Sugar Daddy, the love of my life, a talented lawyer and amazing father, triumphed.

Yesterday the jury saw through all the fancy foot work of the L.A. firm and delivered justice.

Dearest,

Come home now. I feel like you have been away at war. I know you are weary. Let me hold your head in my lap and kiss your temples. The children need to hold your hand and feel your presence. We need you
back. We have missed you.

Well done Counselor.

-A-

FYI

wynona robison

If you didn't heed my advice and come to Spark....

brooke, gladys, margie, me

big mistake. BIG mistake.

Just sayin'.

falling

I really wish we would just stay on daylight savings time all the time. I hate that it will be dark so early. I have been wishing for more hours in the day and now it will seem like less.

But I do enjoy the fall back. One more hour in the morning to loaf around and play in the bath.

osama bin mama

I got a phone call last Wednesday from the boy's teacher.

Phone calls from teachers are never a good sign. In fact, I think I might dread them more than a tax audit. At least if we were audited I could be sure that everything is on the up and up.

With the boy you just don't know.

It was explained to me that, evidently, my son told one of the little girls in his class that I was going to come kill everyone in the class.

Yes folks. Kill.

So.

An interrogation was preformed. Denials were made. Quite frankly, I don't think the kid could remember what he said the day before.

And then I thought to myself, you know, even if he did say those exact words, (and this is when I had to stop and think if I had in fact threatened to kill everyone around me because that is, sadly, a likely scenario these days), even if he did throw out such a heinous remark, I wouldn't punish him.

He's six.

And he's a boy which means that war and fighting and battle and weapons are just super cool right now.

So he talked a little smack. Then again, maybe he didn't do it at all. Who knows?

And who cares?

He's six.

And I find a certain sense of satisfaction in that he pulled out the big guns. Instead of threatening to have his dad beat someone up, he choose me.

He knows who means business around here.

The photo I took of my crab apples has absolutely nothing to do with this post. I just like it. It makes me feel all fallish and domestic and not so much like Osama Bin Laden.

runner up

Fashion really is what it's all about, BUT the treats are a close runner up.


Wilton has some really fun baking kits out this year. They really spice up your goodies.

Too bad I can't actually eat these morsels. Alas, Nazi Natalie is sticking to the one treat a week rule.

A big wet raspberry to that.

let me just reiterate that point...

The fashion.

the true meaning of fall

Fall is really all about the fashion you know. People will try to make you believe that the secular holiday's like Halloween and Harvest are really what it is all about. But around here, we believe in a higher meaning.

It's about fashion people.

Fashion.

This is Birdie's "Don't hate me because I'm beautiful, double chin and all" pose.

Oh my how I do love tights.

birds of a feather

You may be wondering what I am up to today.

Probably not, but I'm going to tell you anyway. This is Thomas in 2004. He went as a bald eagle for Halloween.

He was the cutest bald eagle this side of the Mississippi (m-i-s-s-i-s-s-i-p-p-i right?).

Although, to be honest, I can't really say that I've ever seen a cute bald eagle. Surely there must be one in New York somewhere. He probably lives in Manhattan by this store that I am dying, just dying, to go to.

Five years ago I was head-over-heels happy with my baby boy. This year I am head-over-heels happy with two babies.

Isn't life grand?

For Halloween Birdie is going to be, you guessed it, a bird.

An owl to be precise.

Today I am working on her costume and carving stamps, not to mention the ever present laundry.

Just in case you were wondering what I was doing this fine Fall day.

and before i forget...

Just one thought before the warm weather slips away:

I miss the beach.

It's not so fun with a newborn who has pink Scandinavian skin.

We didn't go much this past Summer.

I missed it.