april's hall pass.

[my brain grows slipperier by the week, thus the need to write stuff down in this non-losable scrap of space. it’s like a future hall pass to these particular bits of memory. ]


dear self,

as of april 2011, you want to remember the following:


if you grocery shop with elle in tow, no matter how fast you scoot past those greenish tanks, she will invariably ask for a pet lobster. [please continue to tell her no.]





zee’s fourth grade class is sending socks to japan to help clad the feet of students displaced by the earthquake and tsunami. late tuesday night you found a note he penciled to the child receiving his package, and it was cloaked in so much tenderness you had to pop your head into his room to smile at him.


you really need to figure out this wii thing. one of these days bee is going to stop needling you to play fifa soccer, and you will be sad.


em proclaimed sunday’s supper ‘the best pasta ever.’ and it was whole wheat. and it had highly visible spinach, even.


elle refers to this guy as a pineapple plant:



she’s pretty bummed when it turns into a lily every year.


you wake each day to a patient, funny husband, happy kids, a sturdy home. your friends and extended family double-knot your days with warmth, so that even in this puddle of yearning, you are rich.


don’t forget.

love, me.