Sara is Twelve Today

"Twelve" is awesome. The best! This particular twelve-year-old still plays with her American Girl dolls; but she designs racy, biker-chick outfits for them out of duct tape. She is serious about art and will spend hours perfecting a horse-drawing. She will also use the oil pastel crayons to streak her hair. She has a collection of piggy banks, all of them empty, because she can't hang on to money to save her life. She drops into the Gad Chutes at Snowbird, but cannot seem to navigate her laundry pile. There is nothing she loves more than playing practical jokes on me and having me get even. She is going to be an archaeologist - this has been the plan since she was five. But mummies freak her out. Shipwrecks, yes; mummies, no.

She still wants to crawl in bed with me on a Saturday to have a snuggle and read poetry. She comes back from birthday parties freaked out because there were kissing games. She and her friends go up to the school parking lot to ride their rip-sticks for hours at a time. She is afraid of the old dolls in the basement. For how much longer do I get to enjoy these little contradictions?

She doesn't get a "friend" party this year. It's her turn for a "family" party. She gets to decide what that means.
For her, that means tuna melts on English muffins. Partly because she loves tuna; partly because she knows Nate hates tuna.
No birthday cake. She wants chocolate fondue. Suits me fine; but it is hard to stick 12 candles into a plate of cut-up stuff.

Shit! It looks like a conflagration! By the way, I have a wonderful camera, but take most of my blog photos with my phone. That's because loading nice photos onto Blogger takes forever! Does that bug anyone else?

Then, off to Classic Skate! My friend Moira came to meet up with us; partly to skate, and also to hear me dish the dirt about how I'm doing. I filled her in on 83% of the gory details of my messed up life, and I was amazed to find her... supportive! When we talked a little last week, I thought she took a different position. Mostly, though, we skated. I don't recall that I have ever roller skated before - maybe once? But ice skating helps. I got faster and faster, and I could skate backwards. But I couldn't switch from backward to forward rapidly, like I can on ice skates. And I can't pick up my foot to do a cross-over. If I really want to be able to play roller derby, I need to be able to do that. Moira wants to practice! Maybe we'll go a few more times! Classic Skate is great, if you wait until just before they close. At 7 PM, the place is packed. Look out for:

1. Little bittie children on little bittie scooters, darting among the adults like minnows;
2. People who are really, really good;
3. People who are really, really bad;
4. Polygamous sister-wives, holding hands as they skate four abreast and two deep. In long skirts;.
5. The 14-year old boy, six-foot-four and all flailing limbs, windmilling all over the track. In sunglasses;
6. The jump ramp, which seems to be ever-moving, ever-shifting. You never know where it will be next and whether you will be forced to go over it.
7. Strollers.
8. Tricycles.
9. Anyone who comes barrelling up behind you, screaming things like, "Cowabunga!", "Oh, my God! Look out!" "AH! AAAAAH! PEOPLE!" or "SORRY! SORRY!"
10. Ego. I was getting pretty zippy and thought I would cleverly hockey stop to show off for Moira, which sent my flying onto my ass. I am going to have the biggest fucking bruise. Luckily my backside is the kind that...well...absorbs shock. I would be fine if I hadn't landed on my phone. As it is, I think my run tomorrow is going to be interesting.

Unless I forget to mention it, we played laser tag, which made me think of nothing so much as being a really free-spirited Costco checker.

Happy birthday, Sara! Can you stay twelve forever?

[I was strong again today! I know now; regardless of how my problems are resolved, I will be OK. I suspect there are some more sad days coming before I'm through this pickle one way or the other. BUT. I can accept whatever comes because I have super friends, good Scotch, upbeat music and dark chocolate.]