Not So SJ Anymore

One of my favorite things about spending my childhood in the 1980s was how DIFFERENT things were back then. We lived in a small town in far southeast Texas, just a stone's throw from Louisiana (via a lake). It was not a perfect town, by any means, but I do have many, ahem, interesting memories. One of my memories is of Halloween; I distinctly remember going to a haunted house put on by a local church.  I remember knowing, at the ripe old age of 8 or 9, that this haunted house was about "real things" that could scare you. Basically, I think it was one of those haunted houses meant to scare kids from abortions. I remember there being a lot of fake body parts and hospital patients and screaming. When you're 8, flying body parts are a very important part of the fear process. Just recently, an owl has taken residence in my back yard. We have a huge mesquite tree, probably one of the biggest in the neighborhood. It's the kind of tree that reminds me a little too

I ran cross-country in high school. Honestly, it was one of the best things I ever did. It gave me a sense of determination I hadn't had before and taught me the value of hard work. Running two or three times a day? Sure! Nine miles before school? OK! In the summer, we often ran fun runs. I remember standing at one in Houston and Destiny's Child had just become A Thing. They were from Houston, a fact I found exciting because no one was ever from Houston, and I'd once read Beyonce's dad used to have them run and sing to practice performing. That was the teenage thinking in me: We're both from Houston and we've both run before! We're practically twinsies! We're currently waking up early, trying to will our bodies to want to go to sleep easier on the plane before our very own (not so) Royal Wedding. I typically wake at 5:30 in the school year, but in the summer I hover between 7:30-8:30 because, woah nelly, I like to Live A Little. Every morning I g

Several years ago, when our children were firmly footed in childhood (not babyhood, toddler-hood or preschool-hood), I started receiving ads and coupons from Target. Ads for diapers. Bottles. Baby clothes. My husband looked at me, in my mid-30s and so done with baby things, and raised an eyebrow. "Is there something I need to know?" Like a teen caught with alcohol in her closet, I shook my head. "No! No! I have NO IDEA why they are sending me diaper ads!" Those aren't even mine! I'm just holding them for a friend! I'm sure I fit whatever box Target thought made a new mother: In my 30s, in the 'burbs, shops at Target. Needless to say, Target didn't realize I'm not typical: I started having babies much younger than most people and now, in my 30s, I have a teen and a tween, thankyouverymuch. I know that my purchases and everything else is tracked. It bothers the ever living hell out of me, but I know this. The people at Amazon could