Pink is the color of a dress
Pink is the color of my eraser
Pink smells like Miss Loeb
Pink tastes like ice cream
Pink is a color in my books
Pink is the earring
like in your ear
Written 6 months after her arrival in America, pretransition
Disclaimer:
(If you came searching for ALO's Barbeque, click the word. It's a good song, that's why I borrowed it's lyrics.)
Sunday, June 20, 2010
Sunday, June 13, 2010
can't win
Therapist told me my child was terrified to go to the family shore house because she had been rejected or ignored by the large group of cousins. She said I shouldn't take her unless I talked to the parents. I emailed them, and I guess I should have called. Now people are saying they hear my message but think I was criticizing them. Nobody told me this directly either, they did it through my husband. I'm sick of being the black sheep in that family.
We don't live in a war zone. We aren't impoverished. No major illnesses.
Still.
We don't live in a war zone. We aren't impoverished. No major illnesses.
Still.
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