OMG, Thank You Gawker for bringing Jackie Mackie Paisley Passey into my life. [link]

I am a very high-quality woman. I know that sounds arrogant, but let’s consider the facts:

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The above list explains why I typically receive 50-100 (sometimes more) responses whenever I post personal ads. This is in addition to getting hit on almost every time I go out alone (and all that those men know about me is that they like the way I look, they don’t even know about all the other qualities I have that make me more appealing than most other women).

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Some people seem to think that this post is a bit harsh and/or arrogant. I'm sorry if I've offended you, but I'm also really sick of getting e-mailed several times a week by delusionally hopeful men who read my blog and think because I am *their* dream girl that I'll therefore want them too. Too often they act crushed when I reject them, which I feel bad about, but if they had stopped to consider whether they had as much to offer me as I have to offer them then they might have had more realistic expectations.

My favorite part is the trackback: Jacqueline Passey is Not Attractive, So Short Her [link]

Well he *is* a second child. The reason I see it as a boy thing is that he's bigger and has a lot more muscle behind his actions. And he's a boy and she's a girl so it's easy to categorize their behavior that way. Not that it's always correct.

During every idle moment today I have thought about parallels between the spice trade, the opium trade, and modern pharmaceutical fixes for a sense of well-being.

I blame DavidS. Get out of my head, DavidS!

My friend's son at one outweighed his three year old sister. She'd always been a very delicate little thing (not in personality, though!) and he is just a very solid little boy. He was nearly 10 lbs at birth.

They didn't do the first-second behavioral thing, though. He's got a very agreeable personality (that sounds wrong. But he's just a sunny-sure-thing! kid.) I'd commented when the daughter was about 3 months old that she was a willfull little thing. That hasn't changed. She knows what she wants and woe be to those who would thwart her.

Jackie Mackie Paisley Passey

Oh, lord! I've been leading my life all wrong, and she's finally told me so, and that there's hope for me. I mean, I've never even been that fat!

There's no one on this earth more agreeable than Julia, provided she's getting her own way. Actually, she has a much sunnier, friendly personality than either boy. She's just a dickens.

When she moved from the crib to a toddler bed, she would run back out to the living room every night, and do a victory lap. Seriously. She was about 23 months. She'd have her hands in little soft fists, over her head, do a lap around the living room, then run back off to bed. We got so we'd just wait for it.

She's the kid you'd say, "No street," to, and then watch as she looked you right in the eye, as she stuck her toes out behind her, and put them just past the curb, into the street.

Miss P is the little girl I mentioned above. I do believe I've told the story of how I was just shocked and amazed at how advanced 3 years olds were these days because she could fire up the computer and browser and navigate to a nickelodeon site. And then, as my back is turned, I hear a very firm "Don't look at me Aunt Sara!" Whereupon I find her being a totally age-appropriate 3 year old, coloring the keyboard with crayons and markers.

Oh, lord! I've been leading my life all wrong, and she's finally told me so, and that there's hope for me. I mean, I've never even been that fat!

Dude, I am fat. And yet, I'm certain I lead a better life than that chick.

I'm certain I lead a better life than that chick.

Not having dropped out of college, probably. Gives you an edge.

Now I have to go read her entire blog, plus work, plus plan two lessons, plus feel royally sick.

I wonder if her life is this multi-faceted.

She's the kid you'd say, "No street," to, and then watch as she looked you right in the eye, as she stuck her toes out behind her, and put them just past the curb, into the street.

Emeline is this child. If we are out back, she wants to go up the stairs to B&E's house. Yesterday, she grabbed the railing and looked at me. I said, "No, Emeline. We aren't going upstairs." She started to smile and raised her foot toward the step. "Emeline. Mommy said, 'No"." She lowered her foot just a little bit. I got up, walked over to her, at which point she let go of the railing and sat on the step, hands clasped in her lap.