When you have to, How Do You Let Go?

I am not very good at letting go. I cling onto memories of things “I lost in the fire“-lost friends, relations and places left behind. I sob, every time I move away from a place,  even after a mere sojourner. I hate to let go. Yes, I even have separation anxiety, close to the beginning of a new school year. I cry at the thought of sending my child back to school. That’s crazy, right?

Biko and Grandpa (RIP)

Biko and Grandpa (RIP)

More confessions…I have been known to cry over relationships..not too many. I know of only two…Oh! Maybe, three.
One was a guy I was engaged to [Yes, once upon a time, I convinced myself that, “I am the marriage type!”]. Our relationship was transcontinental, but we would visit each other a couple of times a year. When I would go to his country, I preferred to stay in a hotel or temporary rental, instead of moving into his family home. He would come stay with me, while I was in-country. Once, I asked him to move back to his place, because I did not want to continue with the relationship. I ended up crying the entire night over my decision, that he caught a cab and came back to me that night.

The second is the man I fell in love with, aka “the only man I ever loved”. Our goodbyes were filled with buckets of tears. I remember crying, holding each other so tight, at the gates of “Cambridge H-Square,” on the morning of our ‘separation,’ as he was leaving town and I was heading for my final exam. Amidst the goodbye and good luck hugs, we cried so hard that we did not wanna let go..

I thought I had no more tears left to cry for guys. But there came a third. The type you cannot easily or willingly extricate from your life, no matter how hard you wish. I remember crying because of what felt like the end of a chapter, ”…leaving me out to the dogs…” A dream jettisoned…! Letting go has never been an easy test for me.

I will spare you recalling the buckets of tears, I have cried, each time I am separating from family and friends, in Uganda, or scattered around the world. The separation kills me, it is not so easy to let go….

But recent events dwarf all those trying moments. I found myself asking, When it is the only option you have, how do you really Let GO? Especially when your life depends on it, how do you let go? How does a family make the hard decision of, letting go of a loved one?

I am talking here about the loss of my son’s Grandpa, this past Sunday, after a long and shabby illness. It ate him up. He suffered through it. It was painful, especially the last five months of his life. A little bit of relief here and there, but most of it was nasty pain!

I was the perpetual optimist, that he would pull through. Perhaps because, I watched him through all the pain and suffering. The times he would literally drag himself to walk, to make a bowl of soup in the kitchen or drive to pick up grandma from The City bus, or drive across the country on family trips. Throughout it all, he kept his humility, and drive to keep going, with bouts of relief, recovery and laughter.

Grandpa delivered on his commitments, whether to family, friends or within social circles.
This one gesture particularly stands out to me, involving a family of a single mom and two girls from the grandparents’ muslim community. The mom left for work early morning before the school bus arrival time, yet the family lived away from the bus line. So, grandpa offered to drive the two girls to the bus stop on school days. Every morning, he left home shortly before seven o’clock, drove twenty minutes to pick them up from their home, to bus stop, and back home another twenty minutes. Again in the afternoon, he drove out twenty minutes, picked the girls from the bus stop and took them home, and drove back home. Even in the brutal, gruesome winter, grandpa woke up, and drove through the snow, up the windy mountain roads where they lived.

On my part, I was always in awe of his humility, sometimes to my discomfort. Particularly this year, he was not in great shape, but still committed to help the single mother and her two girls. Nor was I a stranger to his humility, even though I turned it down sometimes. I noticed that somebody was emptying the trash basket in the bathroom, every week on “Trash Pick-Up Day”. Once I found grandpa emptying my basket, and I asked him to please not worry about it. I knew it came from a good place, but the African in me does not believe in making the elderly ‘wait on’ me. Instead, I, the child should work for them.

And there is more to grandpa’s helping hand that I partook of. When child and I returned to the US after a couple of years abroad, we decided to move in with the grandparents, closer to my job market in NYC [and the North East corridor]. Grandpa drove 850 miles down to Georgia to pick us up, and another 850 miles back to Pennsylvania. Saving us what would have cost an arm and leg, to transport the two of us and all our property on a plane ride.

He did it again, earlier this year, when I ran the Boston Marathon. Grandpa offered to drive me to Boston, though I decided to leave home with child of mine two days in advance, to allow me ample time to pick up my runner’s package and rest before marathon day. Still, he and grandma drove over five hours to Boston to cheer for me on marathon day. They arrived on Sunday night, bless their souls, but grandpa could not join grandma along the marathon route on that cold rainy Marathon day. Instead, he stayed in the hotel room, kept his eyes glued on the TV marathon screening, and waited to catch a glimpse of me. That is the true human spirit.

I think of grandpa, and I think of humility, commitment, dedication and dependability. I think back to all the times I asked him, “How are you doing grandpa?” And he would say, “Same.” Sometimes, I did not want to ask him, because there was nothing new to ask about. Or because I felt useless, asking how he felt when I was not gonna change a thing. At times I self-doubted whether to help or not. Was I undermining his ability and drive to do things on his own? Would I ably fill-in for his close family? He probably shared similar concerns.

Grandpa also had trouble letting go of — carrying large suitcases onto the car roof when preparing for a family road trip, or his daughter’s large laundry bags from the house into her car. He had trouble letting go of driving long distances. Even on our last road trip with him to Maryland, he insisted on driving the entire trip, when I offered to help drive. I was amazed at his mental stamina, driving without much to eat or drink, so he did not have to get up to use the bathroom. By then, his health had deteriorated, with excruciating pain from every part of his body. That would be his last road trip, followed by indefinite hospitalization.

Yet, he soldiered on for the love of his family. He loved his wife and children, so dearly! He even raised more than his biological children. The stories he shared with me, and the stories I heard about him in life and death attest to his true love for people. While quite reserved, he was a “Man-of-the-People”. He loved to engage with and reach out to people. Whether as a part of the “militant community patrol,” that cleaned drugs and pimps off his Brooklyn neighborhood, back when the NYPD would not venture into some neighborhoods. Or Summer Camp organizer (with grandma) for young muslim kids when they lived in NYC.

While I do not want to romanticize grandpa’s life, as I knew it, I hope to underscore that, we each live multiple lives in our lifetime. Given a chance, we would do ourselves a favor to right the wrongs, that are always part of our human experience. For most of what I knew about grandpa, he turned a new leaf, or leaves in his life. He credited his conversion to Islam for rescuing him from street life. As one of his friends said at the funeral, he was in praise of Islam for transforming his life.

I am grateful grandpa saw the good in me. I told him, “I am grateful that you always say good about me.” Whenever I met his social circles, I did not have to introduce myself because he had already done the introduction of me as a runner, highly educated, excellent mom and healthy eater. In a way, he was my cheerleader. He cheered on child of mine, or as he called him, Biko-man!

But time came, when grandpa could not hang onto his strength, when life was draining out of him, and the family had to take the toughest decision to “Let Go…”
I felt like a denialist. I thought he would pull through. He suffered too much not to live to celebrate beating the illness. I watched the surge and slumps in his health. When he could not sit and eat, and when a smile returned to his face. He tried scientific and religious medicines. He tried homeopathy, and chiropractic treatment. He tried staying positive, looking forward to returning home, and eating my health food. He asked me to cook for him. I obliged a couple of times; Not anymore…

So, the lesson for me, from this experience is, even when we have to Let Go, we do not entirely lose out. We keep fond memories, always close to our hearts. Because those memories never fade. So, may we always see the good in people, and hang on to the beauty they possess. Because even when we have to LET GO, we can still keep them close to us, in our memory.

Perhaps there is Freedom in Suffering?

It is a given that all humans live in pursuit of happiness! We all want to be happy, with ourselves, our loved ones and our families. We want to enjoy life, and always wish the best for ourselves. None of us wishes to be bonded to pain, sadness or misery.
Our pursuit of happiness manifests itself in different forms. Self-help books, filled with “lessons on becoming/staying happy”. Shrinks in form of psychologists, psychiatrists, religious prophetesses and prophets, guidance counselors and friends, all remind us how worthy of happiness we are. Lest we forget the “Happy Singer” Pharrell Williams, whose “happy” has ‘infected’ every corner of the world, including places amidst chaos and war. Fitness and body weight loss programs restore and build our happiness, as are TV, video and radio and plenty of other entertainment disposable to make us happy. Implicitly, Happiness is the ultimate measure of personal freedom; sadness the worst form of human living, which should be avoided at all costs!
Perhaps we are all wrong! That sadness is after all not fatal, not miserable and not undesirable. Perhaps there is freedom in suffering? Freedom to liberate, to take time off the world’s absurdities into oneself. Time to reflect and rejuvenate oneself, time to ponder over one’s failures, disappointments and hurtful moments, then recreate success, satisfaction, love and happiness. Through suffering, we might find the strength to claim our space in an unfamiliar, unjust and uninviting world. We might stop being voiceless by finding our voice, or among others concerned about their plight. We might also find the creativity to rebuild our lives and reclaim economic, political and social security for ourselves and loved ones. We might create our bubble of happiness, false or real, longterm or short-lived.
Here, I am thinking of Gays and Lesbians, very often living as outlaws in many societies, but are able to find avenues for self-expression. Transforming alienation, antagonism and ostracism they face into spaces to display of themselves to the ‘unsuspecting’ public through art, spoken word, activism, performance, dressing and festivities. Through disobedience they are transforming their suffering into freedom from confinement in the ‘underground’/‘unseen’ world into outer space.
Battered and abused spouses, as well, find freedom in suffering, through silence or disobedience against demands of their abusive spouses. For some, sexual intercourse is the channel for release their suffering at the hands of abusive spouses for a ‘momentary’ moment(s) of enjoyment. Sexual intercourse transpositions them into a world away from their sadness, reconnecting with their inner most desires and blissfulness. Others find freedom in infidelity with ‘lovers’, one-off strangers or sex workers. Married men buy prostitutes to satisfy their sexual infatuation. Overtime, some of the transactions transcend mere sexual encounter, as the sex worker becomes a listening ear and shoulder to cry on about their marital woes, an avenue to release oneself freely, a source of ‘free’ marriage counseling and education in sexual intimacy. Married women also take on lovers or boyfriends for sexual satisfaction, and to feel desired, adored and youthful again.
Even the unemployed find freedom in suffering a financial loss and job insecurity. The mind is released from the daily demands of a work-life to wander off into places of sadness to imagination to creativity. The loss and pain that often comes with unemployment also avails one more time to think, invent, regain the courage to rebuild oneself, and recreate one’s freedom, through a new employment elsewhere, or by creating own employment.
Drug addicts unleash their pain and suffering through drugs, even if its a few minutes of ‘make-believe’ happiness. I have learned that crack cocaine users ultimately become addicted in a search for “that first high”, that can never be attainable again. They just want to relieve that moment of no fear, wild happy feelings and flying high in the cloud.
Ultimately, even in the most suffering comes moments of freedom for all of us. Moments when we would rather not be disturbed by any offers of love, attention or comfort from outside ourselves. When we all resort to the power within us to overcome suffering and define and recreate our freedom on our terms.

Nobody is Ever in a Permanent State of Being

We grow, we age
We age, we experience
We experience, we learn
We learn, we rethink
We rethink, we enlarge
We enlarge, we seek
We seek, we traverse, we travel
We travel, we encounter
We encounter we fall in love
We fall in love, we fall out unfulfilling
We fall out, we hurt 
We hurt, degenerate
We degenerate, we rejuvenate
We rejuvenate, we strive for peace
We strive for peace, we make peace
We make peace, we give peace
We give peace, We live Life
Lately, I have been going through the emotions. Various emotions. Why we fall in love? Why we let people into our lives? Why our hearts long for what has left us? Why we let others play with our hearts? Why we let our hearts long for the unavailable? Why we let the unavailable, unbothered and under-fulfilling and incompetent ruin our happiness? Why we pay attention, we weep, we sulk, we anger, we grope for those who should not have been in or enjoy our lives? Those who do not qualify to partake of our love?
Then I realize, it is human nature. Nothing is more human than to love, to err and to learn. Nothing is more human than to forgive, to dust off, to try again. Nothing is more human than optimism. If for nothing else, hope is all we should desire to recreate ourselves. To find the inner peace, to live life anew.
That comes with forgiving, Forgiving starts with ourselves. We cannot forgive others unless we forgive ourselves. Forgiving does not mean forgetting, it never will. But it is so worthy, in order to move on. In my experience, I have found beauty in two of the most hard-hitting life experiences: to forgive and to fall in love.
First, I unexpectedly forgave my father in 2013, extricating myself from deep wounds accumulated since. My father and I never had a relationship; except the biological attachment. I credit the death of my best friend in 2013 for opening up my heart to living life anew. I do not know, if it was her beautiful soul speaking to me. She always told me, “I pray that you will one day have a good relationship with your father.” I guess I had lost the only true soulmate [beside my mother], I knew understood me [more than my mother – I say], guarded my innermost secrets and cheered me on. And it happened. I completely forgave my father from the bottom of my heart, without coercion, mediation or cajoling. Now! I miss my father, many times! I have not forgotten all the wrong, pain and suffering he caused me. But I forgave him. At least I am now able to experience his happiness, and gratitude that I forgave him. He calls me from time to time, something that had never happened before. We sit down, talk and laugh, like time does not hold any painful memories between us!
Second, I have partook of the beauty of falling in love, and out. The “out” is most painful, but does not last forever. The “in” lasts forever. It is joyous reminiscing from time to time,  “falling in love”, a feeling distinctively apart from all other love relationships. The “out-lived love” prepares you to let go of any others, without succumbing to the same slow excruciating pain of love. It is equally intriguing pondering over why your heart fell for “that person” and not the other(s)! Especially, when the one you fall in love with and got away may never come clean to you how s/he really felt about you. Again, we make peace with the lost love, forgive, and live life.
Indeed “Love” and Forgiveness” epitomize my belief that Nobody is Ever in a Permanent State of Being. If we can love, we can forgive, and if we can forgive, we can love. Love for an inner peace; for goodness for ourselves and in others; for respect for self and others; for joy for self and others; for honor, success, celebration and understanding for self and others.
We, go through phases in life; hopefully we all do. Nobody is so evil without a glint of goodness! Even the mighty fall, soften and loosen up to different people and in different circumstances. We all love; we might not all know how to express our joys. Perhaps, our life circumstances might not allow us all, to smile or “make nice”, even when our hearts desire. Or we might not know or feel comfortable communicating our story. Maybe I might never hear my father tell his story from his mouth. At least I knew, he expressed his commitment to his family by providing an education to all his children, and a permanent roof for all his marital relationships. That fills me up! To his friends, he partied with them and made them party with him. He was a very trustworthy “kitty keeper” for plenty of his friends, and managed budding investments to fruition for many. Hopefully, they too, will remember him for that.
We, each have our insecurities, which are questioned, challenged and teased out as we progress in life. Sometimes our insecurities make us arrogant, introverted, aggressive, puppets, trigger-happy, or adventurous. At some point in life, it is all about “me”. Until we progress into “lovers of the earth” or “tree-huggers”. Or “fight for the rainforest” as a “survival for the fitness”. Finally, [or perhaps not] we [re]create goodness in ourselves and see goodness in others, and just agree to be, and let others be.
Whatever it is, we live and learn. We learn and let live. Hopefully, each one of us has a chance to life, to live longer to experience, to open ourselves up to learn, to love, to forgive, to give of ourselves, and to partake of what life offers us. And, to appreciate those who bring so much joy and pain in our lives, for they bring us great challenges, lessons and opportunities to become better and re-emphasize that we can never have a Permanent State of Being. Nor should we expect anybody else to stay permanently stagnant!

Embracing the Holiday with Beautiful Sad Memories of Loved Ones: Gone too Soon

I have been quite teary lately! Image

No! I am not experiencing abuse or torture!
Absolutely no family drama or loses!
And I am not pregnant!
I think it is this Christmas festival bringing back sweet bitter memories of loved ones gone to soon!
While I do not celebrate Christmas, it is plastered on my brain, in face and time machine. I was raised Christian, so I remember vividly all  things we did during this festive season. In Uganda, where I am from, everyone got a new dress or shirt from their parents – tailor-made for you!  Now, do not begin to think that I am teary because nobody has bought me a new dress. Yes, I have had to buy myself winter clothes, mostly winter running clothes, anyway:)
No way I can escape the Christmas trees and carols, which are mainstreamed into an American society that seemingly separates “religion from public life”. My thinking is, the “no-religion in public space” is meant to scare away all other non-Christian religions. I understand some schools let kids sing Christmas Carols. In fact, my kindergartner came back yesterday with a painting of a Christmas Tree. I thought that was creepy, considering he goes to public school, where religion is supposedly a no-go.
Granted, PBS Kids Television has done a great job to show us that we can teach our children in America about Christmas without a mention of Jesus, while keeping them mesmerized to learn about Santa, Christmas tree and lights and snow.   But let’s not fool ourselves, the CHRIST in Christmas Tree refers to the character “Jesus CHRIST”, who is credited with inventing Christianity and Christian followers. So, here is religion plastered in our faces, our homes, our children’s psyche, and in our living rooms, and we are supposed to stay “Switzerland” [ok pre-2002 Switzerland]. Or we might be accused of “religious intolerance”, in a very controversially intolerant land we live in America. We do not tolerate anyone who does not harness nature, does not hug trees, does not support the orientation choices of all beings, or is conservatives. We do not want to accept that by not tolerating what we deem intolerance, we too become intolerant. But that is not my major point here, nor what defines me.
I am perfectly fine with anyone practicing their beliefs [and I mean this literally], without impinging on those beliefs I hold dearly as an individual or a member of a particularly group”. I am perfectly fine with Christians! My best friend, who is the reason why I am teary lately was a Christian, and a strong believer too! First and foremost, she was humane and a lover of her friends! She treated each one of us as special to her; we did not have to compete for her affection. I often told her that I am very proud to associate with her because the god she believes listens to her prayers before mine, and blesses me through her. Of course, it is hard to kick-out my Christian influence, and I never turned down her invitations to go party with her Christian community. If she tolerated me and loved me for who I am, that was the least I could return to her, showing here that I did not have a problem with her community of friends. In fact, I always enjoyed them, because there was a lot to talk about beside religion. In any case, it is my way of living – LIVE YOUR LIFE! And let others LIVE THEIR LIVES!
No wonder, this Christmas season 2013 reminds me of the last Christmas I shared with my dear Phina in 2009. This is our first Christmas since coming back to the United States this year, from traveling and living outside the US for the last three years. In December 2009, we went to visit Phina, my BFF in Malden, MA, shortly before leaving the country for South Africa. We enjoy all the time we spent with her. We took pictures in the huge Boston snow, and did our usual outings around Boston.  I did not know that would be the last time I would see her. No one ever prepared me for that possibility. But it is now a reality, and I am living it right now.  Thereafter, I saw her once again in December 2011, via Video Skype from Uganda. And she looked as beautiful, sweet and radiant as ever. That was the last time I saw her alive. The next time would see her, she was lying still and cold.
Thinking about her makes me cry! I miss her dearly:) I imagine how it would have been celebrating Christmas with her again, listening to her talk, chatting till late in the night, her cooking illustrious meals for me in her kitchen, her signature Shepard’s pie and mushroom soup whenever I went to visit her in Boston.
Guess what? While going through my old stuff yesterday, I came across this card she gave me, with her signature handwriting, of course, when my son and I were going away to South Africa. Just a Hug…..Just Because
Even now, I cannot write this without tears.
I miss you so much Phina!  Sending you love and celebrations!

Things we do For Love

It is is true, Never say Never…..

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And I have learned more truth behind this phrase….since becoming a mother. I swore never to do so many things on this list I am just about to share with you. But that was five years ago, when life was still ALL about me.
Call me tree hugger, paranoid, earthy or soulful. I did not care what label got pasted on me. All I wanted was to stay healthy and fit. Keep away from any unnecessary hormones or pounds into and onto my flesh. And, I  did that with a big pie of consciousness. I swore by conscious living, which is pretty much summarized by one of my favorite all time Vanessa William’s Colors of the Wind
You think you own whatever land you land on
The earth is just a dead thing you can claim
But I know every rock and tree and creature
Has a life, has a spirit, has a name

That’s it……That was my mantra….!
Much more empowering, particularly living in a land of “all things possible and fast”. I could get a 5 oz  Häagen-Dazs ice cream, all to myself OR a whole chicken or a box of dunkin donuts, all under $20. Many a time, I deliberately chose to starve myself, not because I had nothing to eat, but because I preferred to keep away from food. No thank you, to Pizza or fast food Burger King, McDonalds and all that. I drank water, tea without sugar, stayed away from colored juices, and a few times bought 100% packaged juice. I also refused to buy into the Hollywood fantasy or some of the US cultural holidays, like Halloween or Thanksgiving. That to me, was a promotion of consumerism, worshiping dead people (in the case of Halloween) or commemorating a people who exterminated and robbed a whole nation of Native Americans with a full holiday and fete (Thanksgiving). So, I stayed away from all the hullabaloo about such days.
Not too much anymore, now that I have a five-year old American child who is coming of age in America. Ok, I still take my tea without Sugar, except when I treat myself to honey; I am not a “chicken girl”, as I call myself, and YES! I stick to 100% juice freshly pressed from home or bought in store, as a compromise. But I have thrown out many of my Nevers…..either because I want to cut corners or in the name of pleasing my son or giving him The American experience. So, here is how I have re-arranged myself with Things we do for love
1. Learned to drive when my son was seven months. Living in the suburbs, where public transport is not a reliable option, I realized that I had to dump my “I am a city girl crap”, and get behind the wheel. I would not encourage anyone to wait until they are of age to learn to drive, but do it if it gets that bad…..because, the rest is, her-story…
2. Class Projects made from scratch. For “show and tell” activities that pre-school and Kindergarten teachers ask to do at home. While every minute counts expensively, we have decided not to take pre-done or purchased items anymore. Instead, we make ours -yes that takes too much time but the returns are gratifying. For instance, the last time we made a ball and cap for “Orange Day” show-and-tell.
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3. Ordering Pizza because my son loves it when he has a chance to eat it. He does not get many of such opportunities, and I have convinced his popsy not to feed him too much pizza. Not just because I consider it junk food [no offense to pizza lovers] but, maybe so (at least for me). Plus, he has constipation issues since birth, especially when he consumes wheat. So, it is safer to keep pizza away from him. Although, now I give him a pizza treat once in a while – and he’s exhilarated!
4. In bed with Hollywood because my son loves visuals. We watched Lion King, Finding Nemo, Cars and Ice age from bootleg home videos. We watched The Incredibles from a friend’s 3D home video. And then, I gave into temptation, and went to the movies to watch Cloudy with a chance of Meatballs. Oh! he loved them, and I did too! I feel asleep while watching Despicable Me 2 in a moving theater with him, and woke up to little giggles. How can anyone resist taking such a cute happy one back to the next big thing in Anime?:)
5. Make believe anything, from pretending to be an astronaut, a pilot or a truck driver, I have done it all. We play anything he says we should play – restaurant, where he is the chef and I am the customer, riding cards – he is McQueen and I am Francesco or going to the park and pretending to throw and bat a baseball, with no play instruments whatsoever.
6. Becoming the Pancake Lady, just about every weekend. Thanks to Pinterest, I could find a health recipe lower in carbs. Now that I know I can substitute anything with wheat, I have bought me corn flour to substitute the whole wheat. I add apple sauce and banana…then I do not need any Maple Syrup.
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7. Perhaps TV does not rot the brain, always, as I used to tell my son. I am not a TV person so I claim. But do not ask me how I am Keeping Up with the Kardashians, hangout with The New Atlanta, all the Housewives, worship at the altar of America’s Next Top Model, and met Girlfriends, Two and a half men, and Everybody Love Raymond! The official claim is, I get drawn to this kind of TV while flipping through channels to find the news, Court TV or Discovery. In reality, this is my guilty-pleasure. Since discovering PBS Kids, I have revamped my mantra, and let my son watch, learn, enjoy, laugh and share. No rot there! Good thing, he has little interest in Nickelodeon…until his cousins come to visit.
 
8. Eating microwave popcorn just about everyday. I do not know if this is related to my son at all, but it is something I picked up since having him. I love love love popcorn. I am still doing fat free OR 94% fat free, but I am probably gonna be eating popcorn for a while longer.
9. Jumping onto American holidays to Trick-or-Treat or Thanksgiving. I confess that the first Thanksgiving I celebrated in my 15+ years of living in America was probably back in 2002? But that was with a friend’s family. I do not remember many more thereafter. But in 2008, following the birth of my son, we did a real Family Thanksgiving, and in 2009 did our first Trick-or-Treat had much! Then we left the country two years later. Now that we are back… Trick-or-Treat, with Captain America and Bat Girl! it was, with the entire neighborhood! more exciting doing it when the kid is grown!
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10. Bye bye Calorie Count, sometime. For a little ice cream or fries and burger OR to take advantage of the playground at McDonalds, whenever it is cold or too hot outside or just because I need to sit down and unwind and write. And did you know, McDonalds has salads too? and 3 for $1 cookies? Oh! such a royal treat.
But at least, we have not given in completely. Whether we are driving our SUV gas guzzlers, eating popcorn, giving our money to Hollywood, playing “make believe” and making “applesauce, raisins and walnut whole wheat [or corn] pancakes. We are still 100% all Natural and Gluten Free! EXCEPT….:)
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