Remembering.

I met someone interesting this last week. We've exchanged a couple of messages.

Then, tonight, he sends me one, apologizing for being down, because his daughter's been in a coma and isn't expected to recover. "Sorry to lay the heavy on you."

I think, a couple of generations ago, things were different. If you were a parent and hadn't lost a child between birth and adulthood, you were lucky-- and chances are, you knew a parent who hadn't been.

I think that back then, people may not have been the most compassionate or helpful in what they said, but at least they got practice saying something. Today, people are afraid to talk about imperfect children-- children who have the audacity to be very sick, disabled, or dead-- because it's "too heavy" for anyone to hear about.

We've had to teach our daughter "don't tell everyone about your sister who is dead" because people get uncomfortable, or assume she's playing and tell her it's bad to make things up like that. Other parents get upset if their children are actually told that kids die sometimes.

In a forum thread I was reading once for parents who'd lost children, one of the topics was "how do you answer the 'how many children' question?" The saddest thing I ever saw was the father of twins, one of whom died shortly after birth. His surviving son was loud, rambunctious, and talkative, and people frequently said "Boy, he's a handful! Aren't you glad you don't have two?"

...what do you say? Deny your child or make someone feel bad?

Anyways, our little girl was an angel tonight-- or at least dressed like one. I wonder if she thought about her sister?
( angel )

chicken?

Well, I've finally managed to get enough sleep. I woke up when the alarm went off at 6 to go play WoW with Kiz...

well, I think I woke up. I remember the alarm going off. And getting up.

Next thing I knew, it was 2am and I was still sleeping on the sofa, covered in cats.

Today I am considering some cooking, because of the lovely cold weather. Well, first I have to clean the kitchen. THEN cooking.

I think I want to make something red and yellow; I'm thinking about those golden-fleshed potatoes, some chicken, some saffron rice, cooked together with some fresh Roma tomatoes and red bell peppers. I might add yellow squash and some black pepper. That and some homemade pumpernickel breadsticks for dipping (the bread isn't homemade, but we cut it into slices, spray it with garlic-flavored olive oil, and bake it to make crispy sticks)...yum!

Now off to the store to hit the day-old bread rack, I think.

I can't believe no one's mentioned this yet.

The only thing better than this story would be this same story, but ending with the words "and for the rest of his life Fred Phelps was followed around by pointing, jeering children."

(no subject)

Kimono's House

"Kimono thinks the main problem with Ponyville is that it's full of ponies. This is why she jumped at the chance to live in a gorgeous, three-story townhouse in the suburbs."

It's a...comic-like thing. Starring Kimono, a My Little Pony. Here's the first strip.

For those of you into doll-geekery, My Little Ponies are *not* generally poseable-- if you see the pony's head move from panel to panel, those are different My Little Pony heads.