This month I’m giving the perfect post award to aka Monty for her post entitled Heading South . I love Monty’s every day posts because they make me smile, but there is more to Monty. She’s a lot more remarkable than she let’s on, perhaps even to herself. I’m just sayin’.

There’s something about Monty that touches me deeply…even when I’m reading her usual, less serious fare. There’s more to her than she let’s on. I said that already. Okay…I think she’s just good. There, I said it. So please, go say hi to aka Monty.

Also, go visit MommaK or
Lucinda to find out more about the Perfect Post awards and to find more award winning posts.

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Right now homemade pink-poodle-in-Paris party invitations are taking priority (almost done). Someone is turning five soon. And it’s not me.

A quick gimpse into my weekend.

1. Rachel is helping me get ready for an event I have to go to with my husband. I feel good after a morning getting my hair cut and highlighted–finally. I have my dress on. It’s not a formal gown, but it’s definitely more than casual attire. I look good, I think. Rachel is talking a mile a minute–narrating my every move. “Oh, this purple lotion. Oh I like this. It smells nice. Are you going to use this? (pointing to who knows what). Why do you use this? You should wear this? Oh, that’s pretty Mom.” Then she looks at me in the mirror with my dress on, but no shoes. She says, “You know who you look like?” In my mind I’m going through all the possibilities. Go ahead. You go through them, too.

“A pilgrim,” she says thoughtfully.

I’m a little disappointed.

“It’s the bare feet, Mom.” she says decisively. “Pilgrims had bare feet….and short dresses.” (Mine was above the knees.)

“But it’s okay, Mom. You look nice.”

2. The whole family heads into a clothing store after dinner and ice-cream out. It’s an hour before bedtime and my kids are bouncing off the walls. I call them into the dressing room with me so they don’t cause trouble while I’m trying on clothes. As I’m trying on clothes, Hannah takes my hand, cocks her head, puts her chin to her chest and says, “Baby, wanna lie down, Baby?” I decline the offer. Then both girls start playing games in the mirror, too loudly, I tell them.

We’re not in a dressing room. It’s just a stall in the back of the store. My husband gets into a stall nearby. Hannah kneels down, puts her head by the gap in the stall door and yells loudly and cheerfully, “Hello, Daddy. We’re in the bathroom!”

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Please forgive me for not returning all of your comments recently. I beg you. Especially the new commenters that have come by. I plan to visit soon. I had another paper due Friday and much else going on with family. I will return all comments from the past week(s) within the next few days.

In two weeks, I will be free from all this school and birthday stuff and will make it up to you big time.

Tell me you forgive me.

If you haven’t been here in a while, I’m posting only once a week on Mondays. It’s my new plan.