It usually takes about 36 hours.
If you call me somewhere in that 36 hours, I’ll have forgotten to smile before answering the phone. My voice will immediately tell you that I’m in the depths of the funk. I’m down in the dark of a deep well. I don’t have any reserves for pretending to be cheerful – for using my ‘Hey-I’m-Glad-You-Called’ voice, when I pick up the phone.
I’ll be hoping there are decent leftovers in the fridge, so I won’t have to come up with an idea for dinner.
Better yet, I’ll send mom a mental telepathy message that says, “Please invite us for dinner tonight.”
She usually responds. Continue reading →
he’d quit insisting that it’s about wanting to see the kids more, and just admit that he wants to funnel less of his money in our direction.
Will’s genetic coding includes a large dose of pyrotechnics. He was interested in matches at an early age. Because I liked living with a roof over my head, I opted to teach him about matches when he first asked. I figure the more kids have their curious natures addressed, the more they’ll learn, and the less potential problems we’ll have. Better he learn about matches while I’m with him, than while he’s sneaking around by himself in the garage, surrounded by gas cans and lighter fluid.
I play mental tricks on myself. When we wake to nine inches of new snow and a temperature of 15 degrees, I tell myself, “Hey, we have lots of firewood, the furnace is working and the skiing will be great.” When our typically bright blue sky is overcast and gray for the second day in a row, I grouse a little and remind myself that I’m getting lots of chores done. When my kids complain about having to do lessons in the morning instead of riding their bikes or skateboarding, I remind them, “You know, you guys could be sitting in a desk at public school for seven hours.”
Just received an email from a dear friend. Her youngest has gone off to college. She lives on the other side of the country, and yet I can feel how her life has shifted in a plate tectonics sort of way. I’d like to be camped at her house with cocktails, dinners, movies and whatever her favorite distractions may be. I know that the gesture would be appreciated, but that’s the last thing she would want right now.
I thought about posting the most damning quotes from the emails received from Mark in the last few days. I thought I might even write about how Mark is telling Will that while every boy needs a mom, they don’t need a mom who poisons them with the hate they feel for that boy’s dad. I thought I’d even post entire copies of those emails. (Trust me. They far exceed the 1000 word limit that a lot of bloggers prefer.) I thought of posting his criticisms and defending myself. His writings further prove his disorder, so it certainly would be more fodder for this blog.
This photo reminds me of all the fun that was had around our house this week. Those drops of water are getting ready to slide down the tulip leaf. You can almost hear the drops saying, “Wheeeee!”
