Merry Etiquette! {RANT]

The week leading up to Christmas has proved as insanely busy as we now expect it to be. I have been wrapping gifts, searching for gifts I know I bought, reviewing lists, and wishing I had more jolly in my holly, but it has been a long year and an even longer month. Some of you know what I saying. Others are questioning whether I ate enough cookies.

Don’t worry, some elves have been dropping off goodies for us. This has been getting us through since other priorities have kept me from doing my holiday baking. So far, I have received a dozen pairs of adorable socks, hot cocoa with a mug and fun flavor options, a gingerbread house which my family decorated beautifully while I got distracted by laundry and tidying, tiny little cookies, festive snack mix, hugs from my two favorite girls, and other things I have already forgotten. My brain is already back to pondering last minute gifts and some time with friends…

But I was able to attend Christmas concerts for both of my little angels. They seem to have inherited the problem of breathing wrong, so they end up yawning halfway through any given song. Luckily, they are adorable, so it somehow worked for them. I was able to get one child’s attention early on, so they knew I was there. The other didn’t see me until the end of the program and it showed. She was glum and barely involved as she sang along with her friends during the first round of songs. During the second round, She was animated and, dare I say, excited to be singing her heart out.

Aside from seeing my two favorite girls, I got to see some of their friends and some of mine. I even reconnected with another mom that I would like to get know better. And her child and mine would love to spend more time playing together, so I think this will work out for everybody. I also got to sit with friends both days and see their adorable babies sing along with mine. In fact, I got to see more of their kids than mine. This is where the rant begins.

Who is the modern Emily Post? I need to know, so I can look to see if she has updated etiquette for the use of cell phones during public performances. Yes, it is just a kids’ show. Yes, we all want to take some pictures and maybe some video for long-distance grandparents. But what is the etiquette for this???

I usually try to make sure my camera screen is hidden by my gargantuan, alien head. I also pick a spot and try my best not to move around, so people behind me can, hopefully, do the same and make some memories that can be shared (even by those of us who can barely draw a stick figure). I fear I might be alone. The principal asked us to remain seated, yet people kept standing up to get a better view or waving their hands in the air, screens out. One guy arrived late and slow walked all the way across the room and then stood chatting between this short woman and her short child for a couple minutes before finally sitting down. 

And the rudeness didn’t end there. A family near me kept a running commentary, which begs the question of why they came if they didn’t want to see and hear the kids. Or maybe their kid wasn’t performing yet, so they assumed no one else wanted to hear their own kids? Admittedly, I made the occasional comment because some kids that I didn’t know (pretty much every kindergarten student) was too cute not to make sure they were seen by my friends, but I tried to not be a constant voice in the background. I also tried to make sure I couldn’t be easily overheard by people six feet from me—over the music…

And the icing on the cake resulted from three grade levels participating in each show. I understand that people have work. I know that watching other people’s kids perform might not be your jam. I realize that getting in and out of an overloaded parking lot can be a hassle. But how do you think the last group of kids feels when they look out an audience that has shrunk to a third of its original size? Add to that, the fact that people disregarded the principal’s information about the flow of students to and from the stage and basically waded through the groups of students trying to stay with their class. And these adults, who should know better, sometimes felt it necessary to show displeasure that the children were exactly where they were meant to be by glaring at them. Not cool. Also not in the spirit of the season.

Hopefully, Christmas will work it’s magic on me and turn me into more of a jolly old elf by the new year.

Rest Well Inspiration [RANT]

Once more life has crept in and piled stones on top of my muse. As she has been unable to breathe, the words dried up. I am working to lift off the stones but it is hard going, and people who claim to be helping are piling more stones on the pile faster than I can remove them. We’ll get there, dear readers. And then enjoyable stories will flow freely once more.

I need the stories to flow because, frankly, not having my own source of income has reached an untenable point. I have mentioned it before, but sometimes I just want to provide things for my children without having to ask, beg, or get a second or third opinion that agrees with mine and comes with a different degree than the two I possess. 

I have a BS in French and a BS in International Business. The university I received them from was accredited for both at the time of my graduation. I’ll spare you my disappointment with recent curriculum changes. But neither of those degrees was as industriously earned as the unofficial one I get every day in the trenches of motherhood and marriage. So trust me when I say that I have the best interests of my children at heart and I think about them all of the time. If I happen to forget, they invite me to cuddle them to sleep or allow me to pull them into my coat as we huddle at the bus stop in the freezing cold. If I have reached a conclusion regarding those tiny suns that I orbit, it isn’t a whim or a fancy, a lot of thought and planning went into my decision.

As previously alluded, November proved a dry month for my musings. Did you notice? I did but I couldn’t force out subpar writing and pass it off as worth the price of admission. So some feelings bled out in poetry and radio silence took hold here for a bit, but I am trying to rally. After all, I used to think I could write 50,000 words every November between family engagements and being high on pie.

The demise of Nanowrimo (National Novel Writing Month) hit some of us a little harder than expected. Yes, we could still write but where were our comrades in the fight against that blank page? I feel disconnected from my writer friends. Was it COVID? Was it discovering part of my heart wandering around outside my body and needing mama’s love and attention? Maybe?

Maybe I need to rebuild some severed connections with people who get me and value my opinion and share my love for words and weird and wild and wonderful. Why do we let ourselves get disconnected? Why do we let our loved ones become less of who we fell in love with?

I’m all questions, so perhaps I should wrap this up and go answer questions my writing pieces have been asking for months now. Cheer me on!

The Right to Be Heard [RANT]

As a child, I used to throw tantrums. Not little ones either. I would scream, cry, kick, and make a ruckus. And let me tell you, tiny little legs can be a massive destructive power against the walls of a trailer. But that was the only way I could make people hear me. Blood pouring from my mouth, knees, or feet generally caused minimum interest. Asking for help fell on deaf ears. It feels like I am back there now.

When you calmly try to tell people that everything isn’t okay, they nod hopefully and offer advice. They mean well, but you can tell that they aren’t seeing the problem because you aren’t screaming it at the top of your lungs. If there isn’t blood, how could you be hurting? And, of course, if anyone else is involved in the issue, we have to give them consideration and time to be better. But what about the one who has been trying to be better all along? And is now being told to dig in some more and it might take a while?

The only conclusion I can reach is that the problem does indeed rest with me. How many times will I be told I am not worthy of respect and that I asked to be hurt because I bothered to wake up and breath? Do you really think it is helpful to cast blame on the person who is seeking to make it better?

I guess my option is to dig in and wait. Hopefully, while doing that I can protect others from letting part of themselves languish in limbo because someone else doesn’t want them to shine…

In the meantime, at least I have tiny koalas to remind me that I am important. They don’t shun me for trespasses that don’t exist enough to be voiced. They don’t turn their back on me because I express complicated human emotions. And they aren’t teenagers yet, so they still believe I know a couple of things.

Do you?

Mama’s Wild Ride Continues [RANT]

So I left off before the joy of Halloween night. Mama werewolf walked Red from “Descendants” and Vampirina from house to house. Despite the chill in the air, I returned home all warm and cozy thanks to my hat, my gloves, and my lovely cloak. My brother felt I needed the hat and gloves. I guess he knows me after all.

People were generous with their donations to this sweet night. In fact, I kept informing them I did not need anything. I was just carrying buckets for the girls’ overflow. Maybe next year, I will be less of a helicopter mom and watch them from the street as they knock on doors. Maybe next year, I won’t see my oldest charging into people like an adorable wrecking ball that loves candy. My children may never finish all the beloved candy they scored. Hmm. Anyone interested in buying some Trick-or-Treat brownies?

The rest of the week has been a jumble of appointments and stress. Being a mom and a wife is not for the faint of heart. When one can’t sleep, the whole world takes on a whole new light. I think I am living the mombie life to the best of my ability. But others tend not to agree. Hoping for a little more sleep and a little less exhaustion this upcoming week.

Despite that, I keep getting up and doing as much as I can as fast and as well as I can. Someday, I hope to whittle down that old “to do” list. As any mom will tell you, that is easier said than done. Some tasks renew themselves daily: dishes and cooking, for instance. Others are at least on a weekly repopulation schedule such as laundry and trash. And then there are all the line items that seem to jump from everyone else’s list to mine because I clearly have so much free time. Does anyone else have kids who constantly try to outsource their homework to you?

Due to my car refusing to start, my new friend pointed out that I needed to make a trip to the DMV. I find it ironic that they tell us not to get on our phones while we sit in line waiting indefinitely for all the cars in front of us to roll through for inspection. Good thing I scored some physical books to read. Even better, my car passed inspection.

Anyway, nothing too exciting to report. Hopefully, next week proves as dull. In the meantime, I am serious about selling some brownies. 9X13 pan, filled with chunks of Halloween candy that I shouldn’t eat and definitely shouldn’t feed to the tiny humans I have to chase if they make it to the ceiling. Any takers? $25 seems to be about the median price (with a discount) for local delivery>

I also have been trying to cure myself of my hoarding. Some lucky locals have scored some of my old stuff. But I have some crafts that need to be appreciated and my kids might like it if I score a little extra money to pay for summer camps and other extracurriculars, so if you have a need for handmade journals or random jewelry, we should talk.

Until next time, remember that you are awesome and anyone who tells you otherwise needs to reevaluate their life choices.

The Answer Might Scare You [RANT]

It’s been a week. Internal struggles abound. External struggles always seem to join up when that happens. Throw in some cute kids and it’s a wild ride. 

Had some communication lapses on Saturday and thought my girls were going to disown me and request a new model. We were supposed to get together with one of their friends but lunchtime passed and we neither saw nor heard from them, so I double checked and we hadn’t committed to anything. It turned out it was a difference in perceptions of lunchtime combined with a project taking longer than anticipated. Three happy kids and three entertained adults resulted.

Sunday brought more child adorableness. In my church, we have a program where the children sing and share thoughts about God at least once a year. This Sunday was the happy day. Quick highlights:

Tiny humans signing while singing some of the songs.

Nervous human babies looking like they need snuggles because stage fright is real and receiving those snuggles.

My daughter perking up when she realized mama was watching her.

The two girls taller than me towering over the tiny four year olds.

My friends’ son lip-syncing with the most amusing expressions on his face.

My daughter, right behind him, using her Scooby jacket as a puppet.

Almost shaking loose a suppressed giggle over this impromptu vaudeville show.

Songs in tiny voices.

The rest of the week has been spent in contemplating life, the universe, and everything. I may have shared some of my aggravations with more people than I should have. One of my friends sent me books to help me process. Not sure the books all apply to the situation at hand. But what do I know, I only think about my problems to the exclusion of sleep and fight battles for longer than most people would bother. Sometimes, it works out. Sometimes, it clearly isn’t going to.

However, I have confirmation that some of my thought processes are definitely not flawed. Now, we just see if the right people hear what I have to say and choose to be in this with me, right?

Life isn’t meant to be lived alone. Why else would we be born into families? And if your family falls short, choose more family. Pick and choose sisters and brothers from your friends. And if you need extra supervision and guidance, choose more family. Though my biological mother has passed, I currently have five moms listed in my phone. And I pull people into my family conglomeration from time to time because we need each other. I want to thank those who are willing to deal with being part of my family. I apologize if I overstep. We’ll just have to work on our communication. Just be patient with me.

Anyway, I doubled down on adorable today by attending a parade at my children’s school. Kids in each grade level dressed as storybook characters, idioms, or famous people. I saw so many Amelia Earharts and Taylor Swifts, flying pigs and raining cats and dogs, and Waldos everywhere. I also saw so many other adorable creatures and people. 

I started snapping pictures of every kid I knew. With the sun shining on me and people milling about, I figured I might get a good photo for a friend even if some of my pictures only included a wing of one child or a hint of skirt of the other. Hopefully, my offerings bring happiness.

And now to accomplish other tasks before walking my tiny clones around to claim candy and bring joy. Hopefully, substack gets a new post today, too. I have been working on it, but it doesn’t quite feel ready for public consumption yet.

Disintegration Point? [RANT]

The week started out well. Mama translation: I didn’t have to mop up the bathroom at church. I followed a friend to the class she teaches since I have a key to the door. My intention was to rush back to a different class another friend was teaching. The first friend gently placed her hand on my arm to lean in and whisper an invitation to stay.

I hesitated. I’ll be honest. I am certain I talk too much in church classes. Sometimes, my overzealous gratitude for knowing I am more than just a white trash girl from the sticks makes me want to say something to let other people know they are deeply loved as well. But I don’t think people who are new to our faith need to hear my deep and often hard-to-follow thoughts. Anyway, I took a glance at the class attendees that had arrived promptly and stood at attention. Three tall military (does former military exist if someone stands in a way that makes you want to salute them?) veterans stood looking down at us expectantly. What else could I do? I added my estrogen to hers and joined the class.

And I talked, probably too much. I bragged about being asked to turn off my barcode scanner when I worked in the library. That got a chorus of voices declaring me a librarian. Instinct kicked in because all I ever heard at the library was how you couldn’t be a librarian if you didn’t have an MLS, even if us lowly library technical assistants did most of the work since we didn’t need to pad our files for conference time. Anyway, despite my objections, at least two people declared that I am a librarian, so I have accomplished that childhood goal. Now to become a paid writer?

You can make that come true if you are feeling magnanimous and like reading my writing. I just need to lure my muse back and finish up a couple of pieces I have in the works. Someone noticed that I haven’t posted yet this week. Right? And that I still owe one to my lovely receptacle of my muse’s offerings.

One of my daughter’s best friends invited her to a small birthday dinner on Monday. Her sister was also generously invited. My friend picked them up and took them to the party, so their parents could have a few hours off. The girls had fun. I did not. Suffice it to say, an event happened that scared off my kinder muse and I am not sure I want to write the darker stuff the remaining inspiration left in its wake.

So I better stop typing about my average week and wish you all well. Halloween is coming. I have costumes to commit to and tasks to accomplish—mostly laundry—average week.

Scary Things Are Brewing [RANT]

While I hung out in the FamilySearch Center on Saturday, the rest of the troops got to work on Halloween decorations. Thus I got to see one of my tiny humans apparently hefting a body on my doorbell cam. Still giggling.

Of course, on my way to the center, I almost became a corpse myself. Two separate individuals thought switching lanes abruptly in near bumper to bumper traffic would be prudent. Pretty sure neither got to their destination quicker. Thankfully, my reflexes and lack of faith in the sanity of other drivers kept me from deserting my faithful readers and “to do” pile.

Sunday brought the expected level of peace as it started with church. Aside from one child flooding the bathroom, bringing out my inner janitor, I enjoyed time with my church family. Then we went to hang out with some friends.

Despite getting reassurance from our host that his oven was functional, it poured out an amazing amount of smoke during the preheat cycle. Then I was left to my own devices without having to claim the kitchen. Of course, this means I felt like a burglar as I opened most cabinets and drawers in search of pans, utensils, and other cooking needs. If only it were that easy to be left alone at my house. My youngest has taken to rolling toys under my feet when I am dancing around between the stove, counter, pantry, and fridge. So if I suddenly stop posting, you might want to check the hospital and sneak me in some food. 

Anyway, we all survived and I didn’t burn down anyone’s house. I did make an adorable four year old happy by cutting a horse silhouette into his pumpkin. I also brought the same kind of joy to a seven year old by not cutting out the face for her jack-o-lantern. 

This week continued at a steady pace until yesterday. My kids get a lot of days off, so I get to entertain them for four days straight. I might be more excited about this than they are. This might be because one refuses to do her homework, so mama isn’t turning on the television and letting them rot their brains. They also keep complaining that they hurt themselves by tripping over the obstacle course they created and then whining more when I offer the tried and true solution of, “Clean up your stuff.”

Even if my kids don’t love me, random strangers do. I have had two individuals on different platforms start chatting with me out of the blue. Because I didn’t immediately tell them to play in traffic without a car, both seem to have reached the conclusion that I don’t store a brain in my head. One invited me to have coffee with them if I ever travel across the country for the inconvenience of a “wrong number”. The other seems to be trying to sweet talk me in French. Yes, I will type to you in French, albeit slowly since I haven’t kept my skills up, and, yes, I will catch the nuance of the French version of, “Your profile picture is so beautiful that I just had to talk to you.” I have heard this before. I am not impressed. Ugh. Anyone know how to negate the aura of “looking to be scammed” that seems to linger around me?

Anyway, I need to work on writing some fiction pieces, so enjoy this little snippet of sleep-inducing wildness. Type at you soon.

Did You See It? [RANT]

I posted a much longer story this week? Are you one of the two people who saw the opening paragraphs? Still no paid subscribers, so only I got the full story. I guess you know what to buy yourself for Christmas and it can count as a gift to me and my little humans. Hint. Hint.

I also spent a solid nine and a half hours watching General Conference. With the passing of President Russell M. Nelson, some speakers were more somber than normal, but they still doled out some good advice. And a couple of them even made me giggle. That may be more on me than the speakers, however. 

I went to the dentist for the fourth time in four weeks. I am thinking I might want to take my observations on oral hygiene to a standup venue instead of making the hygienist giggle as she tries to extract bits of pop tart from my child’s teeth. I promise I told her to brush after breakfast. I also assure you that I don’t think her heart was in brushing the ones she wants to keep. Now I want to brush again…

But first, I remind you that Halloween is coming. It feels like it has snuck up on me fast. Luckily, I have a collection of costumes, so I can just decide on the fly what to be, but not everyone shares my neurosis and costume hoarding skills. 

Yesterday, I ventured to the eye doctor. Unlike last year, they didn’t outright call me old, so that was a win. I did get my eyes dilated, which added a level of excitement to the day. I am not sure if it was the drops for numbing or the dilation drops but something strongly disagreed with my eyes. I did get up on my personal stand-up stage and crack some jokes about looking like I was high, however. If you know me, you know I have resisted many attempts to get me to actually enter that state. I am perfectly disturbingly weird without help. Thank you very much.

Hope you have fun plans for the weekend. Maybe a haunted house? Man, I need to find people who appreciate people trying to scare bodily fluids out of them to wander darkened halls with me. My family is too sweet to be scared. Daw!

Are We Caught Up Yet? [RANT]

Did I get you all caught up last week? I certainly didn’t get myself caught up. I posted one of three posts I am anticipating for substack before tomorrow. That means, I should be simultaneously updating this site and that one. Even I am not that good. Clones anyone?

My girls made a new friend this weekend. A friend’s son has been a little shy at church, so I suggested he make some friends at church. He suggested we get out kids together. Now my oldest might want to adopt the little fellow. I got told I sound like someone’s grandma in my twenties, so I am prepared for this.

I also tried to get through some of the tasks leftover from last week. Unfortunately, I got into a screaming match with one of my children earlier this week. I do not recommend this as my body sided with her and a disc slipped out of place in my back. Thus I have been slowly working my way through the laundry, dishes, and a million other mom responsibilities while trying to keep sounds of distress trapped behind clenched teeth. Should my family life really feel like a jungle where any sign of weakness will have them leaping on me?

Speaking of wildlife, my baby koala hasn’t been able to lavish affection on me the way that she likes. Her preferred method is to hug me and then wrap her legs around my legs and hang on. Generally, I love this, so I am hoping my back feels better soon, so I can go back to being mama koala.

Since I don’t have anything deeply exciting to share aside from my need to tidy up and prep some activities to keep the tiny humans happy while I listen to General Conference (more on that hopefully arriving on substack later), I shall let you return to your regularly scheduled activities. Keep catching up. We’ll conquer the “to do” list and relax…

Eventually...

Right?

But Did I Die? [RANT]

Did you notice that I disappeared? For over a month? Maybe? Maybe not?

I haven’t been wholly neglecting you. If you think I have, then you clearly are not one of my four subscribers on substack. I am also lacking in paid subscribers, which means my goal of socking away a little money for those extras my girls want (that I don’t object to) has not got off of the ground. Should I try to sell you baked goods instead? Contact me privately if you are willing to pay me to bake you a cake or cookies or brownies.

In the interest of time, and hopefully writing more fiction than retelling my own life, I shall try to be brief. What have I been up to?

I went to visit my in-laws. They showered my kids with toys. We missed the back to school night where we find out who gets to teach our little darlings this year. By the time we returned home and I found quiet time to call the school, it was barely under the wire of the school day. Too barely. No one answered my call. My girls went to school with only the eldest knowing who her teacher was due to the school social media app. I told the younger one to go to the teacher her sister had two years ago. I was only half joking. I was also entirely correct.

They survived their first week and we had friends over for labor day. Who knew my house would be party central? Makes it easier when I don’t have to transport every random dessert I decide to make that day.

Then my brain began obsessing over my oldest daughter’s birthday. Between making sure she had a treat for her birthday, making sure Nana and her auntie got to see her open gifts, and planning a little get together with a handful of her friends for that weekend, I might have gone a little crazy. She went off to dance auditions with her dad because I needed to attend the back to school night and meet her teachers.

The next morning found me back to obsessing over her party. We scored some little stepping stones. Some are adorable turtles. Others can hook together to become a little balance beam. I figured those could keep the attendees occupied for a bit on the party day. I baked a cake. We acquired waters and chips. I was semi-satisfied with the tiny fairy I made for the top of the cake, since my daughter changed her mind from an pegasus with wings to a Barbie theme. Thank goodness I hoard cool baking stuff.

Then I started conversing with some of the parents. One said her husband had tested positive for COVID that Wednesday. Since her daughter goes to school with mine and mine had what I thought was a cold the previous weekend, I realized I probably didn’t hide us from the rest of the world long enough after her illness. In the interest of not spreading that joy around, I postponed the party for a week. Most people could still come. 

Then I spent another week obsessing and cleaning. And I remade that fickle fairy. She turned out better this time. I might almost be a pro. I also remembered to buy ice cream, as per the birthday princess’s unspoken request. (Mom’s can read minds.)

So this gets longer and longer. The party went well. Everyone seemed to have fun. My daughters both enjoyed my thoughtful ice cream choices. Some of the guests lingered. This happens when they are basically family and your kids have trouble with the idea of stopping their play before total exhaustion makes them collapse. When our guests left. I covered the small amount of deliciousness to avoid attracting other sweet junkies and my body informed me that I had been overdoing it for about a month and needed to go to bed.

I haven’t quite recuperated from all the running, which continues. Moms have more jobs than even they realize. I have posted a couple of pieces on substack to make up for the week I failed that venue as well. Anyway, I have left out some things because otherwise you will be exhausted from reading this. Hope your week is relaxing.

Wrapping Up Summer [RANT]

This week’s offering on substack was free for all because I felt like it. I also feel like I need to write more fiction, yet here I am typing up a travelogue of my week. It started out mellow with church and family time.

Monday was less mellow. Having all three of my loves home resulted in lots of near misses. Most notably, my husband came rushing to the bathroom right after I told him I needed to pee. He was surprised to find me washing my hands. Apparently, I have created the expectation of being able to empty my bladder at the speed of sound. Maybe that is why I am so exhausted—trying to keep up with unrealistic expectations.

Maybe it is because my body woke me up at 6:30 in the morning on Tuesday and my brain decided I needed to stay awake even though I wanted to get a little more sleep before our big day at the water park. This was all of the girls in household’s first trip to a water park. Much to my shame, I did not contemplate the enclosed tunnels of the tube slide before talking my youngest into joining me on it. As soon as I realized how dark our short journey would be, she started screaming that it was too dark. Too late for me to do anything but try to comfort her and promise it would be over soon. She wouldn’t even try the lazy river with me after that. She did love leaping from lily pad to lily pad in another small pool with the assistance of a rope lattice and, of course, she adored the kiddie slides that she was almost too tall for. 

Her sister adored the tube slides. She kept running off and disappearing to go down them. I was not really surprised that my daredevil was into it. I may have been mildly amazed she was willing to carry a tube up four flights of stairs though. That kept me from going over and over again though the girls’ friend kept trying to convince me to go with her. Three of us did ride the family raft where the lifeguard informed me he hated his job. His opinion didn’t change when he accidentally slid down behind the group ahead of us and then had to run up the aforementioned four flights of stairs. I felt bad for him, but I had seen him flirting with some guests closer to his own age while we waited in line, so it wasn’t all bad.


My sweeties were disappointed when we rushed them out about fifteen minuted before closing. But we stopped at Wendy’s which perked them up and made my wallet happy. Be prepared to spend about as much on food as the ticket price for one person at a waterpark. Making happy kids can be expensive, but those smiles are so worth it. (So save up. Goodness knows I want to.)

On Wednesday, we decided to rest a little as our feet hurt from being on them for about eight hours while soaking in chlorinated water. We had some other friends over for board games and movies. They brought me veggies and meringues and peaches as hostess gifts, so clearly we should spend more time together. 

Thursday, I finally got to celebrate my birthday with a friend. We apparently only go to this one particular Mexican place for my birthday, which is a shame because the food is delicious. Fun was had though I probably spent way too much time talking about people who don’t treat me well. I punctuated it with stories of fun with my cuties though, so maybe I wasn’t as big of a pain as I fear I was.

Hope your week was enjoyable and your feet don’t hurt.

Sleep Lessons? [RANT]

This week convinced me that I need sleep lessons. My Covid-induced allergies returned and brought random nighttime coughing with them. Sleep deprivation kept me from realizing this was the culprit until the fourth time I woke up coughing up a lung on day two or three. Honestly, I thought the exhaustion stemmed from not enough protein and waking up at the slightest sound since I have a child who likes to sneak around like an elephant learning to walk at all hours of the night. Reminds me of the cat I stole who thought she could hide behind a shoe.

Anyway, I decided to help my now confused nasal passages move along by using  the Flonase my doctor prescribed. That halved the late night coughing sessions but loosened something up, so I thought I was going to die. No idea how people live with allergies. It has been throwing off my groove.

Needless to say, I have been wandering around in a fog, wishing for sleep and saying weird things. So when the teachers share weird stuff that my kids say about chocolate, I will only have myself to blame. Anyone else anxiously waiting for someone else to entertain their kids since they have been given a less than stellar rating by those sweet little critics?

Another critic gave me the grocery store version of a standing ovation yesterday. As I wandered around in search of yummies to keep the household happy, I rounded a corner at a probably inappropriate speed. I tend to get a little excited toward the end of my shopping journey, so I don’t always remember to slow down going around corners. As I sped into the next aisle, a man looked up startled. His eyes focused on my face and widened as a smiled in that way I do when I see a particularly lovely cheesecake or cake or cookie or green muppet. I smiled in acknowledgement and continued on my quest for frozen pizza. (My elephant has an addiction and I’m her dealer.)

I was quite proud of that man for only noticing my face. Of course, the ladies in the check-out line noticed my fancy new shirt, which informs the world that my family tree is full of nuts. True story…and most days, so is my belly.

For those keeping track, I have posted on Substack this week. I am still figuring out the ins and outs of this endeavor. Sadly, I am not writing as much as I should. I need to work on that, so more of you will decide my creative endeavors are worth supporting.

In the meantime, have a great week and remember that you can not hide behind an object smaller than yourself…

Unless you have a cloak of invisibility.

Caught Between Celebrations [RANT]

This proved an exhausting two weeks at Casa Hobbit. Camp ended the week before last so my babies were home to be entertained by me. Their father also took off most of last week to spend time with us. Has anyone noticed how differently each of us defines spending time?

Despite all the quality family time, I did finish beta reading two novels. One was the fist of a fantasy series with quite a bit of humor thrown in. The second was a reimagining of Jane Austen’s “Pride and Prejudice”. I’ve read many novels of this genre by this author and haven’t got bored of them yet, so that is the rousing endorsement she needs.

My own writing has been shuffling along. I have posted a couple of poems and poked at some short stories. More entertainment should be forthcoming if I can stop being distracted. But how do I keep getting distracted?

A friend introduced me to a page where I can give away random stuff from my hoard. I managed to offload one clothes dryer, one microwave, a pack-n-play, and some nursing supplies. My husband now excitedly wants me to post just about everything in the house. That will not be happening, so don’t expect to be getting free journals, etc. 

If you are interested in purchasing some of my crafts, however, please let me know. My kids will appreciate it as this is how I plan to fund their extracurricular activities. My husband isn’t too keen on paying the fees for camps and such. I get it because the good ones are a bit expensive, but if our summer schedule has proved anything, it is that I am not nearly exciting enough for my little clones. And play dates don’t work when all their little friends are in camp.

Hope your summer is going well. The temperature is down this morning, so I feel things have improved dramatically.