Wednesday, August 27, 2008


Today is better. I managed not to lose anything. Yet.
However. I would like to thank my mother for emailing me with the "positive spin" I needed. And thank you, dear Julie, for commenting with honesty on how this happens to all of us. And I'd like to thank for the video clip on the North Carolina mother who survived 5 days pinned in a car. Nothing like sweet perspective. My day wasn't so bad.

It makes me wonder if I'd have the wherewithall to survive for 5 days like that...they said she did it for her kids...

Speaking of kids.

After a brief melt-down this afternoon, which soon became obvious that it was merely for the purpose of reminding Mom that it was "TIME FOR MY NAP", Ari and I settled down to read books. He picked out a book entitled, "Why A Son Needs A Mom." Now, this book is boring for toddlers. Filled with black and white photos of moms with sons and bits of sweet advice on why moms are important, it's really more for parents and grandparents who want to get all weepy and nostalgic. However, Ari ate it up. While I read the captions, he looked at the pictures and got all giggly when the mom was kissing the kids. Then he wanted a kiss from *his* mamma. We pointed out the mammas in the picture and the sons in the picture and then I asked where his mamma is and where my son is. Darned if he didn't nail the son part. Pointed right at himself.

So that was neat.

If you're going to fingerpaint, at least have the foresight
to do it in a hotel room.
(Our condo was fumigated last week and this is how we whiled
away some of our time at the Hampton Inn.)

Tuesday, August 26, 2008

Supreme Personally-Directed Frustration

Have you ever lost a credit card? Have you ever had to cancel said credit card?

Okay then. How 'bout this?

Have you ever completed the afore-mentioned process twice in six months?

I rest my case.

For some reason, over the past 10 days, my brain has chosen to vacate the premises surrounding my head. This has been a recurring (is that a word?) condition over the past year but it seems especially virulent this time around. Enough so I finally allowed myself to burst into tears at the sorry, disorganized state in which I've allowed my life to crumble. It didn't help that it took me 40 minutes to finally talk with a human being at my bank, merely to find out if I left my card there. I wasn't on hold. I just couldn't get past all of the "automated services"..."services" my ass.

This brain-vacation is especially noticeable (and aggravating) when you're married to the poster child for Supremely-Organized-I-Know-Where-EVERYTHING-Is. Apparently he has his shit together. Apparently, I do not.

I'm searching for a positive spin on this but, frankly, I'm coming up short.

Friday, August 1, 2008


One year here.

Zora Neale Hurston wrote, "There are years that ask questions and years that answer." I'm not entirely sure which kind of year this has been...maybe some of both.