Funny | Happy Thoughts | Thoughts

Dusting off my syllables…

May 15, 2008

I found a picture the other day of my boys. They were tiny and smile-y and ridiculous and perfect. Oh, and dirty. Really dirty.

Where did those years go? I remember boogers and then BAM! it’s on to X-box and biking down to the corner and back and not needing a tuck-in hug and they don’t crawl in bed with me any more and…

I miss that. The newness and freshness of their life. I wonder what I’m taking for granted now that I should be paying attention to. Probably the “play” they’ve been putting together all week, the long snuggle while we watched a movie. Still being called “Mommy” and not just Mom.

So I’ve been rearranging my life and I was reading some of my archives from a couple of years ago. Man, I used to write interesting stuff! Before I got all maudlin and paranoid.

NO MORE! There will be no maudlin… Only a smidge of melancholy and just a touch of paranoia. Keeps us on our toes you know.

Sometimes, I have to confess. I really hate the laborious nature of writing. Oh, the things we could talk about! Of cabbages and kings, or paper planes and ceiling wax. I think I made that last part up.

Maybe I should consider a podcast-ish kind of thing. I don’t know quite how to make that happen and seriously, we live in such a TV society would you really listen to my nasally, over-emphasized vowels anyway? But I hate the way I look on camera! Totally freaks me out.


Last night was  late-night,  early morning breakfast (lovely!) and then a busy day followed by work…  Did I mention it was freakin’ 80 degrees?   Which may not seem very hot to those of you in milder climes, but  for me?  Brutal… OF course it could have been the dark jeans,  heavy socks, boots and hat…  Sue me.   Those are work clothes. I wanted flip flops and shorts and tanktops and a popsicle.   Grape.  I love grape popsicles.   They are the like frozen Kool-aid.   They may actually be frozen Kool-aid.   In which case, I chewed the Kool-Aid…

Speaking of that… My son, the older, told me today that since his dad told him about Jim Jones he won’t drink Kool-aid.

Apparently our goal of completely instilling irrational fear of the inane into the deep and dark recesses of their psyches is a success.   We will continue to homeschool them and if we are able to continue in this vein, we will raise a couple of unsocialized, free-thinkers.

Who will still refuse to drink the Kool-Aid.  Heh.  That’s funny.

I have vodka in the fridge.  And a apple-tini mixer.  And a green apple.   Methinks a cocktail is in my future.   I probably should have written after the cocktail.  I would have been more interesting…