So Cristin sent me one of those All About You email questionnaires today. I’m not very good at responding to them, but Cristin did name me in response to question 19, so I figured I’d better give it shot. But then I faced a dilemma: do Cristin’s thing or blog?

Suddenly it hit me. Why not have my cake and eat it too?

Help yourself to a slice:

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Caelyn and I went to Altus a few weeks ago without Chris. That means I stayed up all night. And that means I looked through lots of old HS photos and yearbooks. . . .

I’m a pretty nostalgic person. Just last night I got nostalgic about the Little League field lights, and I’ve never played! But, for some reason, I can’t muster up an ounce of nostalgia for the town I lived in for 10 years. It’s hard to say why. Maybe because my parents live in the house I lived in from 12 to 18, not 8 to 12 (and something sweet and warm in a person gets lost after 12), or because they replaced the carpet with tile. Maybe because I didn’t love high school or because my friends have moved away. Maybe because the church I grew up in is full of different people in a different building or because the country just isn’t the same without the teenage angst.

Or maybe I’ve just turned into a big city snob.

Whatever, you’d expect me to start feeling fuzzy as soon as I cross the Red. But I don’t, not even when nostalgia-inducing events occur. This visit, my old next-door neighbor came over. Then Mom made us stop to say hello to my old band director. It was nice, but being in the band hall only made me think about how I won’t encourage Caelyn to be in band. C.C. was in town too, which was good, but it didn’t feel nostalgic. We didn’t sit around talking about the old days. We talked about the now ones.

But it was still fun to look at those pics and yearbooks. To be honest, though, I don’t remember everyone who signed them. One guy addressed me as “baby.” He was moving that summer and gave me his new number. I had to think long and hard about who he was. (To my credit, I don’t think he had a reason to call me “baby.”)

Anyway, mixed in with those yearbooks I found my Official English Paper Files for middle school, junior high, and high school. And! My Creative Writing Files for junior high and high school. I bet you didn’t know I wrote a murder mystery in the 7th grade or a courtroom drama in the 8th. There’s a romance for Freshman year, along with a re-visioned ending to Little Women (where Jo marries Laurie) and a piece about God turning outhouses into castles. I can’t not mention the state-wide anti-tabacco essay winner that landed me a “Smile In Style, Don’t Use Tobacco!” t-shirt. And let’s not forget the short-story that earned me a grand-prize trip to Electricity Camp! Of course, there were papers on Hamlet, Death of a Salesman, As I Lay Dying, and Heart of Darkness too.

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Close to a year ago, I wrote a post about the Merritts getting healthy, and I suppose, to celebrate that anniversary, I ought to write an update post, even though I’m not sure I really want to because: a) being thin without working for it was a part of my image for a long time and b) it feels kinda vain.

But, still, I’m happy to report that 365 days later we’re still at it. I’ll admit that we haven’t been 100% for each of those days. January to April was sparse on the workout front. But, still, knowing us, I think that’s an accomplishment.

So what’s all that “healthiness” looked like?

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I did a little cleaning up around here and updated the About page. (I might go back to the shorter version.) I’ve been feeling restless with For the Record lately. I’m trying to fix that. And I’m telling you because I know you care.

We don’t have a potty chair around here, but we do have a potty attachment seat. I know what you’re thinking (wishing?). But, no, It’s not high-tech, Japanese, state-of-the-art, or digital (but it does have Elmo on it). And, no, nobody called me at work to inform me that Caelyn just said “poo-poo” and send me racing home to make sure my little girl won’t have to take rubber sheets to a major university that requires their students to be potty trained.

But!

Just yesterday, Caelyn did say “Bapa-Bapa,” pulled her step stool up to the pot, slapped on Elmo, ripped off her diaper, climbed up, and let ‘er rip all on her own accord. Since then she’s only let two no. 1’s go anywhere but in the potty, and she’s racked up quite a few “sparkles” on her impromptu reward board:

And!

She did frame her face with her little seat and shoot the biggest smile up to her daddy, which made him crack up and say, “Oh, Caelyn. That’s a joke Dave Coulier would make!” (I think he was just trying to disguise his Full House knowledge by attributing the potty hat joke to Joey instead of its rightful owner, Michelle, don’t you?)

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