I can't believe I'm saying this, but: Thank you, Jenna Bush

No, not because you chose to have an "intimate" and "casual" wedding that Papa Bush said was a "spectacular" event anyway. And not because you had a limestone cross custom-made and erected as your altar. And not because you chose fourteen attendants dressed in wildflower-inspired colors or that a parade was held in your honor while you sipped mimosas with the Barbaras and Mama Bush while Bobbi Brown or similar did your au naturale marital make-up and coif on good old Texas soil.

But thank you for all the people who've searched "Jenna Bush wedding" in the last week to find photos and details and inspiration to tuck into their own bridal binders (not that I am anywhere near to judging the bridal binder...hell, I am nearly divorced and still covet mine like...well, like a limestone cross altar) and have found lil ol' Sassafrass. All because of this post, thrown up in a moment of sheer, embarrassing obsession with all those dress designs.

Thank you, Jenna, for getting married and throwing so many searches my way. That was the best darn wedding favor I've ever left with, especially from a "spectacular" event I didn't even attend.

While I'm at it, I'd also like to thank Jillian Michaels, all of her fans who believe they are leaving comments directly to her on this post where I talk about not being Jillian Michaels but rather, her mere mortal interviewer.

Finally, I'd like to thank all the people who faithfully search "vulva shots" and land upon this little riff on our old pal Crazeh Commando Brit.

Let's also not forget the people in the balcony, God and motorcycle helmet law opposers who leap on every opportunity they can get to scream supposedly patriotic sentiments and defend everyone else's "right" to traumatic brain injuries (but it's cool...freedom of speech and all that).

To all of us here on this little comfy couch stashed in this little corner of the internets: This traffic trophy's for all of you!

(OK, it's for me. But I will totally share the Costco sheet cake at the after party).

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How he spent the first day in our new place

There are new creaks and noises to get used to and many things to learn about our new place (note to self: do not run the dishwasher a) at night and #2) immediately before entering the shower). But the good news is, we woke up here in (relatively) good spirits after a (short but) good night's sleep.

Lil E is on the fence about whether this place is better than Grandma and Grandpa's house. OK, who am I kidding? He flat-out said, "Grandma and Grandpa's house is just so. much. more. fun." This was after asking how long we have to live here. And he was so deadpan, I knew he was as serious as naptime. Preschoolers -- they're a tough crowd, man. And the only response is laughter. It is seriously the only consistent thing that gets us through.

Lil E must think Grandma and Grandpa's house is a big party because there, he does a lot of cable TV watching and elbow pinching (shhht, it's his quirky thing) while sitting in the big leather armchair. Here, he apparently thinks he's living in some sort of sweatshop work camp. God help me if the underage permit people come around before all these boxes are unpacked.

It was like there was a list in his ever-cranking brain of things that must be done. I am pretty sure it was scrawled out in his mind like this:

(Lil E's list after the jump)

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This is where we live now. And this is how we got here

And so, we have made the leap.

Seven months ago, I left my therapist's office, picked up Lil E from co-op, took him home for a nap and packed a big bag of clothes while he slept.

I'm not sure what was in that bag. Basics, I suppose. Undies, Pull-Ups, toothbrushes, jeans, sneakers, long-sleeved t-shirts, his favorite jammies, his babies. I packed a few things of my own, more random things like bras and yoga pants and hair clips. I focused on the boy but couldn't center when it came to myself.

My mom came by with her car and support and brave smile over her own heartache and worry and anger. When Lil E woke up we put on even happier faces and went to a birthday party. We tossed our overnight bags in and presents on top. We talked up the party and how his good friend would be so excited to be three too, so thrilled to see him there.

And then we never went home.

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