It’s a funny thing, this multicultural melting pot thing we have here in North America.  So many different cultures, so many pockets of different kinds of people that live here.  Some mix with other cultures, some don’t.  Me, I’m a mixer, I’ve always been curious about other people and how they live, the food they eat and the rituals they have.  More and more it’s apparent that while we all have our surface differences, we all have the same human drive: to love and be loved, to be seen, to be heard and somehow, to express ourselves.

Later that day, I asked my husband Grant if this was the right terminology I used. What do you want Lula to refer to you as, I asked.  She needs a term.  Well, turns out I was right on the money with the Caucasions-don’t-call-themselves-caucasions instinct, and no mutt wants to be called a mutt, it’s just too mutty,  so WHITE BOY it is.  It’s just right.

On a totally different tangent: It’s my birthday today, and one year ago, on my living room floor, my son and I did the dance of birth on my birthday, so it’s also my darling boy Max’s VERY FIRST BIRTHDAY.  Happy birthday Max, and Happy birthday Me.