Something New

It's fun to try new things.

Like the time I went rappelling.  It was most terrifying, and I knew my rope would break and send my little body hurtling toward the rocks below.  My heart was thumping, thumping, thumping in my chest as I took my first step off the jagged cliff.  Guess what?  The rope didn't break and the descent was exhilarating.

A new thing proved to be a good thing.

Or, there was the time I tried eggplant.  I was traveling throughout China with a stellar group of adventurers.  While staying in the southern part of China, in Yangshuo--a breathtakingly lush and majestically beautiful city of jutted mountains and fertile rice fields--a woman offered to cook us a meal and serve it to us in her home for a small fee.  Truthfully, I'm not sure how she prepared the eggplant or what she served with it.  I could not give a name to most of the items I ate while visiting that mythical country, but I do know the eggplant--served over rice in small, porcelain bowls--was incredible.

A new thing proved to be a good thing.

I have the opportunity to try a new thing on this blog.  A couple of times a month, on Sunday, I will be posting the work of a guest blogger.  Remember my beloved Sunshine?

I invited her to post on my blog in a series I'm going to call, "Have a Sunny Sunday."  (I'm getting giddy with excitement for this "new thing," even as I type this!)  The inspiration for the idea came as I was rereading a countless number of emails Mama Sun has sent me over the years.  THEY ARE HILARIOUS.  I believe Sunshine's posts will be insightful, meaningful, witty, and fun.  I sincerely hope they make your day!

Here's a "taste" of what you are in for...and it's even better than eggplant.

Have a Sunny Sunday!

*Email message from March 19, 2010*

I thought this would be good for a giggle, this is an email I sent to the Pier 49 Pizza company, I think it's a true testament as to how I really just don't take things too seriously (well, okay, at least things like this):

Dear Pizza People,

I don't know if whoever is reading this knows what the term "blow out" means in reference to a 19-month-old babies' diaper.  But, that is what I was dealing with this evening while dining in your restaurant.  You can only imagine my puzzlement upon entering the ladies' room and discovering that there was no where to change my daughter's diaper.  "Hmmm, this is a pizza restaurant, most of the tables would indicate 'family' dining...strange."  So, I now take my baby, sporting a diaper that would make a grown man cry it's so disgusting, out to my mini-van (I know the stereotype in all of this is ridiculous, I think so too) and try to salvage what is left of my patience and self-respect while wrestling her squirming little self into a clean diaper in a spring snow storm.  All the while, my husband is inside chasing my 4-year-old and my other 19-month-old (yes, they're twins... no, it's not as fun as it sounds) all over the now crowded restaurant.  So, please, on behalf of myself and the other patrons that politely "tolerated" our presence this evening... have a changing station installed in the bathroom!

P.S. You're probably going to want to consider having more than 2 high-chairs on hand as we maxed you out on that one too.

Thank you for your consideration,

(Patron, pizza fan, and exhausted Mommy)


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