• Member Since 11th Oct, 2011
  • offline last seen 1 hour ago


I'm older than your average brony, but then I've always enjoyed cartoons. I'm an experienced reviewer, EqD pre-reader, and occasional author.


This story is a sequel to My Domestic Equestria

Applejack doesn’t get the chance to speak that often, to say what she really wants. That’s okay. I’d like to have a conversation with her anyway.

Reading “My Domestic Equestria” first will help get into the mindset of this one, but it isn’t necessary to understand it.

Chapters (1)
Comments ( 11 )

That was the best love note and thank you I've ever read.
And just so you know, at least from me, you're doing great.

And like AJ said, take care of yourself. You're terrific!

Man that was touching. Based on the previous story at least, it sure sounds like Applejack and her friends helped you get really close to your son.

I'm so glad you published this.

I know almost exactly how you feel. I probably should say more, but my husband is waiting for me to put Trixie to bed, and I'm writing this comment. So I'll stop now, and I'm going to enjoy bedtime more tonight. Thank you for writing this.

Y'know, I do imagine you must very well be in a similar situation. I know you've brought your family to Bronycon before, but I don't know how much they'd actually want to go of their own accord. My family doesn't know that much about what the show means to me, just that I like it, and wifey knows I write stories about it. She's read a couple humanized versions, but none of the pony ones yet, though there are a few she wants to, and I'll let her.

I'm digressing though. I imagine you're even more in the situation of trying to balance the time you put into pony and worrying that you've got it all wrong. If you remember the show "Boy Meets World" that started in the 90s, there was an episode where the dad Alan takes his two sons to an art museum. He has nice discussions with the younger one (Cory, the titular boy) while he just kind of treats the older son Eric, who's always portrayed as a scatterbrained goofball, like more of a tag-along. I'd love to paste in the whole scene, because it's a very powerful moment, but I'll just say the episode title is "Raging Cory" if people want to look it up and watch the whole thing. Long story short, Alan asks Eric for his take on a piece of art, leading to this exchange about an abstract sculpture with various shapes of polished metal:

Eric: A monkey. [pauses] Two monkeys, and they're fighting over a coconut, which symbolizes the father monkey's attention.
Alan: Uh, this may not have been a good idea.
Cory: Well, Dad, it is open to interpretation, you know?
Eric: My interpretation is that the artist is illustrating a very painful situation, where the father monkey has two sons, but only one coconut, so he splits the coconut in half, but only a half a coconut isn't enough for either son.

There's more goodness to this scene, but as Alan and Eric eventually walk off to discuss another piece, Cory stays behind to look at the art's title plaque, which says "Monkeys With Coconut."

But it's that bit about how you only have one coconut, and both sons want the whole thing, and the father can never satisfy everyone, that this puts me in the mind of. Good things come from both, but I'm never sure I'm finding the right balance.

God, I never know if I'm doing the right thing with my family, but splitting time between myself (and my fandom) and them is definitely a part of that. It's a bit easier with my husband, who writes RPGs part time and is more casually in Star Wars and LotR fandoms himself (along with liking MLP), so he at least gets the fandom thing. Of course, this means we're both in the same boat, balancing projects and expectations of a whole handful of fandoms between us and still trying to put each other and Trixie first.

And the thing is, you're never going to know if you got it right until later, a decade or more down the road, when you're either happy with where you are or looking back and wondering what the hell was wrong with you.

Along the same lines (or possibly on the other hand, depending on which way it goes) there's a story I keep in mind. When I was five years old or so, I begged my mother to let me go through a haunted house. She had my little sister with her, but she finally let me go through by myself. I came out screaming, and cried for an hour. My mom was sure she'd traumatized me for life.

I have no memory of this, at all. And I'm a well adjusted...ish adult. Things that seem like a big deal now, when the kids are little, probably aren't. Most of the time, if your intentions are good, things will be fine.

...but they might not be. And you're never gonna know until later. I totally get it.

This was lovely. It was really a pleasure to read. I hope your son still enjoys ponies into the future, even if it's not the same way he once did. Please take care of yourself. You are awesome but anyone who wants your help at the expense of your family and/or health is being monumentally unfair--though they may not realize if you don't speak up. Please get the rest you need. Make sure you're there for your son. Thank you, even so, for taking the time to write this.

And now you've got me thinking about what I've done with my life for the past six years. This was clearly an excellent story; nothing bad could get me to look at myself the way this has. Besides, I'm a sucker for metafiction. Thank you for this.

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