The other day I dropped JB off at the sitter’s. Another little boy there asked me for a kiss.
JB ran interference, “Yuck. Don’t kiss him Mom.”
“Oh, I’ll just give him a little kiss right here on the cheek.”
With the strangest look on his face, JB said, “I don’t think that’s ok with me.”
Great line buddy, I’ll have to remember that one next time I get a booty call.
JB wanted to wear a pull-up tonight so I obliged. I know, I know, it’s regressive and not “allowed” by many manuals. But do you know how many months I regained watching him run around in a diaper and a sweatshirt? KD told him he was going to tell everyone. JB didn’t think that was too cool and made him promise not to say. But, it didn’t deter him and he asked for a clean one after his bath, not that there was anything wrong with the first one, except that KD had ripped it open a bit.
He’ll often ask me to hold him like I did when he was a baby. It’s comforting to him and to me. A second chance really. He’s sleeping now with a “fresh” diaper. I’m sure it will be dry in the morning. If not, I’ll slap my fingers.
At night we’ve been watching this show called, “In the Night Garden“. It’s bedtime Teletubbies and starts with a child being put to bed with a gentle massage of the hand and then moves to a wonderland full of little characters and strange happenings. KD and JB love it and it settles them for a good night’s sleep. It’s actually aimed at young children from 1-4, but KD (almost seven) thinks it’s really cool. Perhaps JB can counter KD’s diaper tale. I have to admit, I don’t follow it so well. I’m usually asleep by the time IgglePiggle is finished his waves and giggles.
The yelling has been silenced these past few days. I’ve resorted to slow, low, deep, whispered requests. Yesterday KD pushed JB off his chair and in my best Horatio Caine, I said, “KD. K-D. You could have hurt him badly. KD. K-D. Don’t. Do that again.”
You think you’ve got it all covered, the blanket gets yanked away. I was doing so great. Completely involved in myself and my life and having fun discovering so much. I just read my posts from the summer and smash…I crash head-on into myself. How could I have tripped backward? What was I thinking? I won’t close up all the chapters I’ve written this past year and return to my old, tortured self. I’m not quite done with me, but I love where I’m headed. Leave me alone, go away, take a hike. Find your own way home, this cab is taken. I’ll send it back for you. Catch me if you can.
That’s me…angry at me.
A familiar emptiness
washes over me
Pain smiles at me
and laughs at my tears
Stillness brings no comfort
I shiver
Some things you dream about
are not meant to be
Why settle for a dream?
Embrace reality
Life is beautiful
beyond the pain
beyond the sorrow
beyond the rain
Take my hand
I’ll lead the way
to reveal a glimpse
of the morrow’s day
Lost is a place
full of transient fear
move a little closer
the truth in your ear
It’s up to you
to make it so
your soul is screaming
to let it go
But fear pulls you back
and covers your eyes
the beauty is hidden
the pain only lies
So, how many of you wanted to tell me I was supposed to hit the “seek” button after entering the top-secret safe code for my car radio? Driving is a safe adventure once again, or an un-safe adventure, depending on how you look at it.
I gob of Silly Putty got attached to one of my handmade crocheted doilies. This particular doilie bears sentimental value; it was a wedding gift from someone I really like. My first inclination was to put it in the freezer for a few hours. That worked ok, but didn’t get it all out. My second thought was to figure out what Silly Putty is made of so I could determine the right solvent to dissolve it. But, hey, I’m no chemist so I just Googled “Removing Silly Putty” and found the solution.
God I love the internet. Rubbing alcohol took it right out. My beautiful doilie will be back on display tomorrow.
Following a path
guided by longing
tripping on bruises
and wonder lust
Something so fierce
drives me forward
into the deep
of misplaced hope
Hearing the voice
full of surprise
listening intently
with passionate eyes
Some dreams live
so faith remains
some dreams die
to lighten the load
If onlys are torture
demons entangled
releasing emotion
to fuel up again
Ever since my battery died yesterday morning, my radio hasn’t worked. It’s stuck in safe mode. What a learned last night is that safe mode is the auto-theft feature that makes it worthless to thieves.
The manual states that driving while listening to the radio can be distracting and you should only listen when it is safe to do so. Well, I have news. Driving while listening to your thoughts is far more dangerous. I’ve been totally distracted. Not to the point of leaving my car in gear in a carwash, but not quite focused on lights, pedestrians and small rodents.
For some reason, the card in the manual did not include the code. No problem, I could crack it myself. I sat in my driveway determined to try every combination. With four digits from 0 to 9, that’s, well…you do the math, but I’d probably still be there.
So I called my dealership this morning on my way to work and it turns out they are unable to give me the code over the phone. Ever the online marketer, I asked if they would email it to me; no go. I rushed there tonight before my guitar lesson to collect the proper digits. A very nice gentleman, whom I hadn’t met before, believed I was actually myself and revealed the combination.
I skipped, and I do mean that literally, to my car to plug them in. XXX9. No go. With minutes to spare, I rushed back in to break the bad news. He checked the computer once more and then told me that if I had pressed any other number in the last hour, it wouldn’t work. Ok.
After my lesson, I skipped once more to my car, dreaming of Gretchen Wilson blasting me back to attentive driving. Carefully, I punched in the numbers. Nothing. Then I remembered my guitar lesson is only a 1/2 hour long. Great, another terrifying ride home with my thoughts.
So, the car sat in my driveway for well over 3 hours without my sticky fingers on the buttons and I just now battled the snow storm to try one more time. Ever the optimist, I turned down the volume and confidently punched in the code. Again, nothing. I’ve given up. Either that’s not my radio or I really f*cked it up trying to pick the lock.
Oh, how I desire to sing along, or listen to Louise Hay and drown my thoughts with someone elses.
But perhaps I’m being too hard on myself, I did have a few meaningful notions today: go buy that MP3 player you’ve wanted for so long; isn’t it funny that you can’t remember the words if there’s no music; and, do you think I could play Jimmie and drive?
Oh yeah, two more: what is that thumping sound in the front end, and safe mode makes my radio pretty worthless to me too.
March break and the boys are so excited. Monday was a jammie day. How proud they were to roll out of bed and head to their Dad’s for breakfast. Day 2 and KD changed into new jammies this morning ready for another “special” day.
Ever industrious and helpful, I left them to clean off my car and warm it up. It’s a standard so they couldn’t actually turn it on but had everything else going full throttle. At least until I tried to start the car. Fortunately their Dad is off this week and tripped over in his jammies to give me a boost.
Breakfast Thursday morning will be on me.
I will not fall back
helpless in my heart
I’ll shake the fear of nothing
and wait without a thought
Promises made to self
to leave the pain behind
and enjoy the sudden thrill
of laughter and warm times
No assumptions required
nor created in my heart
face the day with brightness
knowing I’m alright
If time calls sweetly
and the message clear
I’ll sing a new song
through joyous tears
Just a Moment 