The Hubs won’t play games with me. He says I have too many rules. I say games come with rules. Otherwise, you wouldn’t know what to do. Duh. He says I make up too many of my own rules. I say… I say… I say whatever. He’s just a sore looser, I think.

Yesterday, Annalise and I set up an epic MLP playland. Don’t know what MLP is? Well, you were obviously not a child of the ’80’s.* Or at least not a female one. My Little Pony. I had a gazillion. And a stable with a bed for the ponies (as though they lay down in beds. Geesh.) And 2 baby cribs with mini ponies that had designs on their rears that matched their mommies’ rears. And lots of MLP clothes from the early 80’s (including one very hot pink workout headband… Rock On MLP!) And a giant pink castle with a pony’s throne and golden horseshoes. Not even kidding. Annalise inherited them all because apparently I’ve inherited my emotional attachment to things from my mother. She saved all my MLPs. And Cabbage Patch Dolls. And Strawberry Shortcake Dolls. And Little Golden Books. And I’m sure lots of other things I’ve yet to discover. Her garage is like a seriously organized treasure hunt. If you are my age and care to have a walk down memory lane via all the best toys from your childhood, come with me to visit her. I’m sure she’ll hook you up. Along with some seriously mean grub.** She feeds all people who walk into her home. Expected or unexpected.

*Does “a child of the 80’s” mean I was born in the 80’s? Or just that I was a child at some point during the ’80’s. Because if it mean’s I was born in the 80’s, then technically, I’m a child of the 70’s. But I won’t tell you which year. Except that it’s closer to the 80’s than the beginning of the 70’s.

**MOM! Just to be clear, “seriously mean grub” is a compliment. It means your food is delicious. NOT that your food is a bully. You probably knew that already, but just in case… I didn’t want to risk losing out on any of that deliciousness next time I’m down.

Anyway, while my girl and I were playing MLPs, I realized that we were actually NOT playing MLPs. We were setting up. We were organizing. We were planning. We were deciding what each little MLP accessory (i.e. goblets, awards, diaper, roller skates…) would be used for when we played and where it would go and who would hold it, and… Scratch that. WE were not deciding all these things. SHE was deciding all these things. I’d set up the castle. But in the wrong spot. It would get moved. I’d brush a pony’s mane. But with the wrong brush (there’s only 20 to choose from). I’d switch. And then again. I’d set up the horse jumps, but facing the wrong way. They’d get turned.

I finally asked if we could start playing. She said, “Not yet. We have to get it all set up first. Everything has to be in its spot. And then, when we play, we can’t (fill in the blank)... and we need to (fill in the blank)… and don’t forget (fill in the blank) …”

I suddenly found myself saying to her, “Annalise! You have so many rules! It’s not very fun to play with someone with so ma…” She looked at me, wondering if I’d finish my sentence. “Never mind. Your dad is in the next room.”

Have you ever had a moment where you realized that you are very much like your mother, and your daughter is very much like you and your mother? I did. Staring at those ponies my mom saved because she knew how much I loved them and might want to play with them with my own daughter one day. Then staring at my daughter, who is organizing the entire MLP collection – which takes up the entire living room – and making a “plan for playing” before actually playing. Yes, I am like my mother. And my daughter is like me. And I guess that is a good thing, because I love those two girls an awful lot. And if I turn out to be a bit like my mom, and if my daughter turns out to be a little bit like her, too, then I guess we’ve just made this world a little bit brighter. She is one amazing lady. LOVE YOU, MAMA!

P.S. Hubs just read this and wanted me to add that, and I quote, (ahem) “The reason I don’t play with you is because you have too many rules and are OCD… like when we were playing cars with Jacob and you had to re-line up the cars we’d lined up so they were with matching Cars. You ruined our fun.” I would like to add that if you are going to put all the Lightning McQueens together in order from smallest to largest, and you put the Fillmores together from smallest to largest, IT ONLY MAKES SENSE that you put the Maters and Finns and Hollys and other cars in order from smallest to largest. Otherwise they feel left out. And maybe also separation anxiety.

And yes, I’m probably slightly OCD. But I think I get that from my mom, too.

P.P.S. To all you faithful blog readers: WordPress tells me my blog has been going for almost a year. So I’m thinking it’s time for a blog makeover! I might change color (I’m thinking red and brown) and format a bit. Do you have any feedback? Is the font too small? Spacing weird? What do you think? Leave me a comment!