Another Quote of the Day
It's June. Find the stale Christmas baking and eat it now, before the resolution kicks in.
by Deb Williams
"We
are all inventors, each sailing out on a voyage of
discovery, guided
each by a private chart, of which there is no duplicate. The world is all gates, all opportunities."
-- Ralph Waldo Emerson
June the sometheenth:
The children are all snug in their nasty little nests of saliva soaked blankets, torn books, horded art supplies and Lego bits. I hope the tiny mean corners dig into their fleshy sides and my darlings asphyxiate on broken, lead-based, crayons in their sleep. Did I really just write that?
Look. Even in their deep primary-coloured-outside-the-lines dreams they're fighting. It goes on and on: the ceaseless morning bathroom squabbling, the breakfast one-liner quick-hits, then a short breather while they head into their education-based corners. All the better to be ready for an intensified 3:30 rematch - chewing at one another's soft spots and feeding on scabby frailties.
"Keep your hands to yourself, your face in the book, and your mouth SHUT!"..."I don't care if you still read with your mouth moving".
His breathing makes her crazy. Her hair is too red.
And when I threaten, I mean really threaten with "No TV for a week!", I get, "So?"
"And No friends!".
"So?"
"For TWO weeks!" - but I can't get a purchase on their edges. My whipping words don't smack hard enough. I have to find a weakness or go mad.
And then I look across the dinner table at "he with whom I purposefully, if blindly, chose to spend the rest of my incessant time on earth with" and I realize: his breathing drives me crazy, he thinks my hair is too red and there is no reason in the world why I should expect siblings, who have been unthinkingly mashed together, to spend peaceful time in the same abode.
*Physical Activity: None. Will start again Monday at the smelly gym where they are all woman and no one's looking.
*Food Plan: Nothing but spinach until 11am and then I found that green box of stale holiday baking I hid in December, behind the legumes. The legumes had moths so I threw them out. I'll start healthy with fresh legumes, as soon as I find a legume recipe book. Legume. Legume. Legume.
In the meantime get as much as I can into my doughy body before Monday, when all pleasure in life will cease.
*Mood Index: Think I may have missed "mommy's friendly-pill" for a day... or maybe I took two? Need to get one of those old lady one-a-day divided boxes so I stop over-dosing.
*Sleep Pattern: No pattern. Lay down after lunch. **Note: running out of excuses for arriving late at the traffic circle with blanket lines on face; set cellphone alarm for school pick-up.
*Sex: Should offer Warren a post-spring pull in the shower before the end of the month. Think of song to make it spring-time fresh -- "Everything's Coming Up Roses"??
each by a private chart, of which there is no duplicate. The world is all gates, all opportunities."
-- Ralph Waldo Emerson
June the sometheenth:
The children are all snug in their nasty little nests of saliva soaked blankets, torn books, horded art supplies and Lego bits. I hope the tiny mean corners dig into their fleshy sides and my darlings asphyxiate on broken, lead-based, crayons in their sleep. Did I really just write that?
Look. Even in their deep primary-coloured-outside-the-lines dreams they're fighting. It goes on and on: the ceaseless morning bathroom squabbling, the breakfast one-liner quick-hits, then a short breather while they head into their education-based corners. All the better to be ready for an intensified 3:30 rematch - chewing at one another's soft spots and feeding on scabby frailties.
"Keep your hands to yourself, your face in the book, and your mouth SHUT!"..."I don't care if you still read with your mouth moving".
His breathing makes her crazy. Her hair is too red.
And when I threaten, I mean really threaten with "No TV for a week!", I get, "So?"
"And No friends!".
"So?"
"For TWO weeks!" - but I can't get a purchase on their edges. My whipping words don't smack hard enough. I have to find a weakness or go mad.
And then I look across the dinner table at "he with whom I purposefully, if blindly, chose to spend the rest of my incessant time on earth with" and I realize: his breathing drives me crazy, he thinks my hair is too red and there is no reason in the world why I should expect siblings, who have been unthinkingly mashed together, to spend peaceful time in the same abode.
*Physical Activity: None. Will start again Monday at the smelly gym where they are all woman and no one's looking.
*Food Plan: Nothing but spinach until 11am and then I found that green box of stale holiday baking I hid in December, behind the legumes. The legumes had moths so I threw them out. I'll start healthy with fresh legumes, as soon as I find a legume recipe book. Legume. Legume. Legume.
In the meantime get as much as I can into my doughy body before Monday, when all pleasure in life will cease.
*Mood Index: Think I may have missed "mommy's friendly-pill" for a day... or maybe I took two? Need to get one of those old lady one-a-day divided boxes so I stop over-dosing.
*Sleep Pattern: No pattern. Lay down after lunch. **Note: running out of excuses for arriving late at the traffic circle with blanket lines on face; set cellphone alarm for school pick-up.
*Sex: Should offer Warren a post-spring pull in the shower before the end of the month. Think of song to make it spring-time fresh -- "Everything's Coming Up Roses"??