I Am Not Here To Make Friends

Ranee (who doesn’t have a pseudonym yet) had twins – with a toddler already knocking around – and after a over a year in the k-hole, she re-emerged into my life … and with a mission.

Dude, I used commas, parenthesis, and ellipses in one sentence. That has to be some kind of crime against grammar. 

It is refreshing to see a woman who unapologetically makes use of her babysitting time to engage in a some self-care rather than using it to go to Target or the grocery store. She probably uses some of her kid-free time to do that shit, but she also makes sure to get together with friends.

Today we hiked.

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I scored a home run with a saucy little minx at the trailhead. She was gagging for it.


I was deep in the tummy

Afterwards I eschewed the ride home from Chautauqua in order to walk home and rack up a few more miles on my Fitbit. Ten miles a day is my lucky number and even though Sideboob doesn’t have a Fitbit, I like to think of myself in competition with her anyway.

I got home, cleaned up and took myself out to lunch with Scheissehund because he wasn’t going to tolerate being left at home.

I found a place with a shaded patio and settled in to write letters to the boys at camp while I waited for lunch.

Sideboob and Ranee sent me pictures from the hike and we debated what day to do it again.


And there you have it, our differences in parenting styles. Ranee promises compassion and a reward, I appeal to masochism. Knowing Ranee, I’d bet she’s a tough mother that takes no shit, so I’m guessing she’s being nicer to Sideboob. Me? I know what makes Sideboob tick.


You know who isn’t winning? Gay for Trump, the self-loathing group that staged the most hilarious rally ever.

The whole #gayfortrump thing confuses me but as a person who has thrown an event or two, there is nothing more humiliating and spirit crushing than no one showing up, which is why this image from the rally on the Washington Mall brought a smile to my face …


Obviously the biggest gay (and not LGBTQ) rally for Trump. Ever.

Scratch that. I would rather no one show up than just a few because if no one is there, you can just slink home and pretend it didn’t happen. If only a few people show up you have to pretend that you are having SO MUCH FUN. Which you aren’t.

Another thing that brought a smile to my face is this …


Doesn’t like small dogs

Loony and I had a lovely 4th of July. We had burgers at The Pearl Street Pub, watched Get Out, and wrapped up the movie just in time to catch the finale of the fireworks from our third story deck.

Get Out was fantastic. I wouldn’t call it a comedy (as some reviews do) but it was great. It was engaging, creepy, downright scary, and yes, a little funny in places. I know a movie is good when Loony gets out of his desk chair and sits on the couch with me to watch.

Film Title: Get Out

I’m not a fan of the horror genre but I am a fan of really good movies, whatever the genre may be. This one was a winner.

Loony and I were up late with the movie and the fireworks – 11PM! –  I found him snuggled up with Scheissehund when I came out of the bathroom in the morning.

I scrambled some eggs and we had breakfast on the porch while I waited for Ranee and Sideboob to pick me up.


I always wondered what life would look like after our kids grow up. There is always the fear that parenthood changes us so profoundly that we won’t know how to be a couple anymore. If this last ten days has taught us anything, it is that we still have it. I have thoroughly enjoyed returning to the rhythms of being two and not four.

Not that I’m ready to be an empty nester, mind you. Here are the latest stalker photos of my kids at camp.

I think Loony and I will make enfrijoladas for dinner and then catch The Goonies (super fun 80’s cover band) at Bands on the Bricks tonight.


Dude, yum!

Here’s the PDF of the recipe …

Enfrijoladas – Tortillas in Black Bean Sauce – Budget Bytes

And a peek at the scene on Pearl Street, it’s sweet.

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Oh! And I think I came up with the name I want for my puppy. I mean, our puppy. I am going to name him Papa unless any family member strenuously objects.

I love terms of endearment, especially ones that are usually reserved for humans. I knew a cat named Mama who hung out at Strawberry Hotsprings, my old cat Yuki earned the honorific of “Aunt Yuki” because she was so old by the time I had Casey, and I loved the sound of Caesar Millan’s Pitbull named Daddy.

ALSO, papa is potato in Spanish and there IS NOTHING I LOVE MORE IN THIS WORLD THAN POTATOES. Especially red ones. With butter and cream.



4 thoughts on “I Am Not Here To Make Friends

  1. Hey darling, I ran into a gal while at the chiropractor. Her lil’ Chihuahua had hair loss similar to Bartleby, so I got to chatting with her and she said her lil’ Sammy has Cushings Disease and sees a holistic veterinarian. She provided me with her information and I wanted to pass it along.
    If you decide to give them a try let them know you were a referral.

  2. It sounds like you and your hubby are having a great time together and your boys are having a blast.
    Love the name of your new puppy.
    I am off to take Strider to la playa.

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