Little m Long a

I had returned from school drop off duties last Friday morning and was minding the twins.  And by minding I mean trying to keep them from destroying the house or each other.  They are flourishing in the increased attention they receive each morning when the older kids have left for school and before they head to their afternoon Pre-K classes.  Two little personalities taking on new life unencumbered by oppressive older siblings.

The first order of the day completed, my focus shifted to our inoperable shower and the plumber that had arrived to fix it.

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I’ve had visitors today.  Uninvited visitors.  I’m typically a pretty amicable host and will go out of my way to make sure that my guests are comfortable.  OK, so that may not be entirely true.  I mean, chances are you’re not going to get my last Izze and if for some reason I happen to divide the last steak, my portion will most assuredly be a tad larger than yours.  But you’re not going to starve or die of thirst. Hell, there’s even a pretty good chance you can sit in my chair.  (I don’t really have a chair but if I did, I’d probably let you sit in it.)

But I get to keep the remote. Read the rest of this entry →

To roads diverged in a yellow wood, and I —-

I bent down to tie my shoe and lost my balance.  I grabbed for a branch to no avail and fell headlong into the fucking stream.  Now I’m soaking wet, bruised, and so far from either path that even if I did find my way back I wouldn’t know which way to turn once I got there.

The delusions of control, the fuzzy feelings way deep down that let me rest peacefully each night are slowly eroding away.  My life as a Rockwell painting is becoming a Dali.  Or a Pollack.   Maybe it’s the onset of spring, the final push toward the promise of summer.  Patience is an ideal and my children live in the I want it now.  They grow restless with anticipation, weary of the toils of an unusually long school year, and by restless I mean annoying.

They are at each other constantly.  Yelling, hitting, pushing, fighting, arguing.  Crying, whining, pouting, sulking.  And by constantly I mean IT NEVER STOPS!!!  Their behavior is bad.

It’s worse than bad.  It’s reprehensible.  Hell, I don’t even know what reprehensible really means but it sounds a lot worse than bad, so that’s what their behavior has been.  REPREHENSIBLE!!

Or maybe they’re just tired.  It could be that they just haven’t adjusted to the fact that the sun is still up when they are supposed to be going down for the night.  I’m tired, too but I’m not afforded the luxury of that excuse.  My lot is have to.

And so I will.

But I’m going to need a lot more motrin…..

And maybe Vodka!

Always tell the truth.  That way, you never have to remember what you said. Mark Twain

According to legend, and other manuscripts held in general high regard, there are ten commandments.  Ten rather specific edicts which, if  followed closely, serve a fairly good moral foundation.  Arguably, a person that holds to these tenets would be in pretty good standing with the rest of society.  God, too.

Conversely, the person (whomever he or she may be) that voluntarily acts in such a manner that directly opposes these ten simple rules would as a result fail to maintain such elevated standing with society.  Or her parents.

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I stepped on a moonbeam at the top of the stairs last night.  The damn thing nearly tripped me.  Funny thing, moonbeams.

That actually has nothing to do with anything but for some reason I felt it needed sharing.  My world seems to be spinning at an alarmingly fast pace as of late.  Not out of control, mind you, just faster.   I’m struggling to keep pace fearful that I’m going to miss something important or at the very least fail to recognize that something significant is happening.

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