Tales of Wit and Charm…

Last night, Rlo and I had dinner with Mrs. AK and her kids. After dinner Little AK asked me to read her a story and tuck her in. This has been a longstanding tradition between the two of us, until recently, when she’s decided Rlo can join us.

No matter which book I choose, Little AK wants the male character to be called Rlo-pants. He blushes and I oblige. The three of us crawl into her tiny PINK! bed to hear the story. As I turned over the last page, Little AK immediately dismissed Rlo from her bedroom, so that I could tuck her in properly.

As I was picking up her stuffed animals and placing them on her bed, she looked up at me and said, “Goodnight, Sarah, I love you more than Rlo.”

“Well, sweetie, I love you more than chocolate, and you know how I love chocolate.”

“But, Sarah, I love you more than Google.”

Realizing I couldn’t follow that up, I gave her a quick kiss, turned off the light and ran downstairs to gloat.

Yesterday was the First World Autism Awareness Day, but you know this because you are aware, right?

On May 3rd I am taking part in the Utah Autism Speaks Walk. I encourage anyone who can to donate to this cause. It would mean a lot to me and a lot to the family I’m walking for. We are team Big MAK–if you want to help us, donate directly to my page here. Thanks to everyone who has already donated, and thanks in advance to those that do. You’re going to, right? I have the best readers around! If you’re interested in the organization, read their site: Autism Speaks Website .

Why I walk?

I’m walking for this brave little boy, and his incredible family. I’ve watched him growing up over the past eight years, and it breaks my heart to see him growing bigger, but not develop the way other, more fortunate, children do.

He says very few words, but the day he said my name was a day I’ll never forget. The very few times he does say “Sarrrrrah” I cry for him, for his family and for the other children affected with this disease. He can’t tell me he loves me, but each time he hugs me I know he does. I whisper, “I love you” into his ear each time I leave their house, and I pray that he understands me. One in every 150 US children is diagnosed with Autism. This is unacceptable, and frankly terrifies me; someday I want a child and I want that child to have better odds. So I walk.

As I made my bed last night, I came to terms with the fact this is likely the last time I’ll sleep on these sheets. These sheets that I brought home from my grandma’s house after she died. These sheets that bring me comfort, no matter how crappy I feel. These sheets, with their crazy flower pattern, remind me that my grandma was spunky, even when she was sleeping.

Over the years, since her death, these sheets have gotten me through a lot of hard times. Seeing the sheets remind me that I come from a line of strong women, they could do anything, and so can I. When the corner ripped as I made my bed last night, I didn’t feel quite so strong anymore, and I got a little teary-eyed.

I can’t throw the sheets out just yet. Instead I’ll lovingly pack them away knowing that if I ever need them they’ll be there for me—just like she would’ve been if she were still alive.

Yesterday was Frank Sinatra’s birthday. Ben sent me a text message reminding me, but I didn’t need a reminder. I’ve been in love with Sinatra my entire life. In fact, he’s the first crush I ever had.

My Grandma Leavitt played a lot of big band music when I was little, which explains my love of it. It reminds me of her, and now that she’s gone I really, really like having that reminder. The first time she played a Sinatra song I announced to her I was going to be in love with him forever. From that point on whenever I spent time at her house I wanted to listen to him. I used to put on a dress and sit and listen to his records. When my grandmother asked me why I needed a dress on, I said, “I need to be pretty in case he comes to marry me.” And even though he didn’t come to marry me, I still listen to his music obsessively all these years later.

My mother bought me the below Frank Sinatra doll a few years ago for Christmas. I love it! In fact if there were a fire in my apartment and I only had time to save a few things I’d save the doll, and my baby blanket. Depending on how much Daisy farted that day I may save her, but chances are the fire would be a direct result from her ass.

This morning I awoke to cold feet touching me, specifically my niece Hannah’s little, cold feet. (I know, I was hoping for a hot man, too!)

When I asked why she was in bed with me, her answer guaranteed my undying affection for life. “Aunt Sarah I need to be close to you because of all the love in my heart, or it could explode.”

Why can’t I find a man to say such sweet things to me?!

Dear Mom,

Happy Birthday! This year for your birthday I’ve given you the gift of eternal youth. “How,” you ask? I’m not posting your real age for the entire world to read. That’s how much I love you!

I’m extremely lucky to be your daughter. You’re everything I’m not: sweet, kind and caring. I have these traits somewhere inside of me, I just choose to share them with people I care about, not everyone like you do. I’ve always admired that about you—your ability to care about anyone and everyone you meet.

You’ve been such an amazing influence on my life. You’ve always been tremendously supportive of my creativity and I will eternally be grateful for that. I know at times it wasn’t easy. Like the time I painted the cat because I wanted to be an artist, or the time I faked sick for an entire week at age eight so I could stay home and write the next bestseller, or the time I told my primary class I wanted to be a prostitute when I grew up because I wanted to play with boys all day and get presents. You have the patience of an angel, and I’ll always love you for that.

I hate change and I think I’m finally at a point in my life I don’t freak out and need you every time said change happens. That makes me happy and sad at the same time. I loved being able to call you night or day and knowing that just hearing your voice will make everything okay… and it always was. You’ve been a magnificent mother and I can’t imagine a life without you. You’ve always been there for me and that is the best feeling in the world.

I know I didn’t turn out the way you’d hoped. I gave up long ago the belief system you hold dear, but Mom, you’re what I hold dear and I’ll never ever give that up. You’ll always be my Mommy.

I love you!

Love,
Your Princess