Sassafras sighting - she actually walked into someone's house on Sunday, but the woman was so surprised she didn't get the doors closed.

I can't believe it was so close!

(I don't even have stretch marks, which is a miracle of good genes, not miracle creams).

I have opposite genes. I have never had children, and I am covered in stretch marks. I swear I have even gotten them from losing weight! Most of them are from when I went on AD''s and gained about 80 pounds in less than a year.

I have stretch marks from puberty (in the process of getting to a B cup? seriously?) but none from two 8+ pound babies. Bodies is weird.

Also, that Sassafrass is some rascal! Inside a house? Dang.

COME ON SASS!!!! Man, she's tricksy.

Love the FPC clause invocation.

The good news is that the woman said Sassafras looked healthy, and calm - not dirty and desperate. She was making Ragu, and it must have smelled wonderful.

I feel like I should have stretch marks, because pregnancy on a 4'9" frame is not pretty.

Awesome news on the Sass sighting!

Sass is a taunty taunter. I hope you'll be able to use his visit to track him down.

{{Maria}}

My mom had me when she was 39. I was a surprise (my folks had been married for 9 years then, but Mom thought she couldn't have more kids). Bearing me relatively late didn't cause me or Mom any physical harm.

I'm also on the "no kids, thanks," side of things. And I'm very glad that I haven't seen any, "Oh, you say you don't want kids now, but it's so different when they're your own." Because sometimes it is, and sometime the parent(s) realize that they were right in the first place. Whether the latter results in physical damage or just growing up knowing you're not wanted (and, yeah, you know), it's not a good thing.

I was looking for a romantic partner before dying parent care became a full-time hobby. Since that's finished I've been trying to spend some of my spare time doing things that get me out around people (the flying club, until the inner ear thing hosed that, possibly scuba diving after I get back from France). And I'm on a geek-centric dating site. (geek2geek) Aside from a few winks from people in other states and that one email exchange from a guy who would have liked to meet if I could promise not to be too fat (er, no), there's been no interest.

Localistas, you'd tell me if I smelled bad, right?

To be fair, I haven't seen anyone terribly interesting myself, either. I keep toying with the idea of getting some therapy, to see if I'm self-sabotaging or something. Everything else in my life is going pretty well, though. And money's finite and there are so many more interesting things to spend it on, like travel and new hobbies.

Aw, you guys. You guys!

I do want to call this out again (from Plei, I think):

Just because someone else's year was made of explosive diaherra doesn't make yours not a poop-based structure.

SO TRUE.

And OMG SASS!! Stay around teh peoples, doggie!!!

If you have insurance that covers it at all, and you're even toying with the idea, I highly recommend therapy. It's so great! I mean, if you're me and enjoy going into a room and crying for an hour. Or 50 minutes. Well worth the co-pay. If your insurance doesn't cover it, it's definitely more of a financial consideration.

Basically, everything Jesse said, because I was going to call out that quote from Plei's post, but I had just woken up and didn't have my glasses on yet, and it was too harrrrd.

And SASS! The closest of close calls! OMG!

And with the right therapist, therapy RULES. I have had mediocre therapy before, and it's wasted my time, but I LOVE my therapist now (THANKS, SMONSTER, for the hookup) and while I feel like it's accelerated my midlife crisis, I also feel like it's accelerated my eventual getting on the other side of it.

Someone on a local listserv found a pair of abandoned red-ear sliders (turtles) that need a home. PLEASE TALK ME OUT OF ADOPTING TWO TURTLES. I CANNOT AFFORD PETS.

I realized something that's been bugging me about FlyLady, and why I will never do the shiny sink thing - she assumes that women get no help housecleaning from their partners. In my house, DH does most of the dishes and laundry. He does these things while watching movies after I've gone to bed. So while I get what the sink represents, it's never going to be my personal symbol of That One Thing I Cleaned That Proves I'm Qualified To Live Among Civilized Beings.

My insurance only covers mental health services if it entails a chemical dependency or a problem that puts me in the hospital. So, yeah, $$$$.