co-conspirators

Fallon and her friend, Delilah, are arguably the most adorable ginger-haired two year olds on the planet. I absolutely adore the fact that they both call out “Mi-Ma!!” every time they see me. But even I know well enough to be afraid, very afraid when they put their heads together.

Oh sure they could be planning something absolutely adorable like cleaning house in the way that only a two year old armed with a Swiffer duster can. That’s exactly what they want you to think they are doing. It’s world domination that they are really planning.

I’m keeping the Big Top well stocked with Swiffer dusters. Dusting is distraction and I have a lot of things that need dusting. .

Just me sacrificing a little in order to protect the world.

You’re welcome, world!

taken down, packed up, like a boss

It’s official. The kids are back to school…hurray, hurray, hurray. The final, frenzied dance competition season is just about to begin. The Rockefeller Christmas Tree is officially down and being milled and readied for “green lumber” for Habitat for Humanity.And, The Big Top Christmas Crazy is down and packed away for another year. Yes, including the Big Tree…unlike last year, when it stayed up until the beginning of March because me have elves to help pack this holiday crazy up and put away?

Oh honey, please! I have help putting this all away like I have help putting it all up. They are clowns, not elves, living here under the Big Top.

So with a burst of energy and the desire to beat my personal best with my new Fitbit, I got all of it, including the big tree, packed up in one afternoon.

Like a boss!

Oh and I logged over 20,000 steps.

Again, like a boss!

Meanwhile, poor Zelda is mourning the fact that I packed away all of her fabulous toys. I forgot how much kitty cats love the Christmas crazy.

 

play it again: angst stained

What?! You mean not every one gets all angsty, emo and philosophical when they are doing laundry?

Originally published October 29, 2013

A perfectly grey Fall day like today is the perfect day for laundry…especially because some of us are down to that last clean pair of socks and underwear.

Yes, I am slacking.

But today was the perfect day to get it done. At least most of it done. Okay, fine. Today was a good day to get some of it done…at least some socks and underwear. And thanks to my ever attentive, don-t-tell-her-she’s-clumsy-because-she-is-a-cat-and-cats-are-not-clumsy assistant, Zelda, I made a discovery.

When I am gone…remember me for who I am & not because I’m me. I know it makes no sense…but you’ll get it someday.

Teenaged angst all over one of my laundry baskets. I have no clue which one of my clowns wrote this and when and why. But I am sure they had their reasons to pour their heart out all over the bottom of this old laundry basket.

I get it. I had teenaged angst too. A lot of it. Too much of it. I poured it out all over the place. Funny how when I run across something I wrote years and years ago how sometimes I can get the pain and the emotion being expressed and other times I shake my head a little embarrassed because that really was tearing at my heart…that?! Perhaps at a certain age we aren’t supposed to understand that teenaged angst all that much…even if it was once ours.

I don’t know…

I get kind of philosophical when I’m doing laundry. And, as you can see it is hereditary.

thirty one times

Thirty one times I have nagged my darling husband to help me deck the halls and make this place all holiday jolly. Truth be told, I do most of the work…with a little help from my minions which would be the other reason why I had so many children. The first being so I don’t have to do the dishes. Just ask my kids, they’ll tell you; I had children so I would never have to wash dishes ever again. But yes, every year I have my darling husband help to haul our Christmas crazy packed away in the shed because spiders and the decking the halls begins.

Thirty one Christmases. Thirty one times. We’ve come a long, long way from that first year with our Charlie Brown tree that had no branches.

I look at him…then I look at other husbands…then I look back at him…

I am the lucky one.

NaPhoPoMo day 30

angst stained

A perfectly grey Fall day like today is the perfect day for laundry…especially because some of us are down to that last clean pair of socks and underwear.

Yes, I am slacking.

But today was the perfect day to get it done. At least most of it done. Okay, fine. Today was a good day to get some of it done…at least some socks and underwear. And thanks to my ever attentive, don-t-tell-her-she’s-clumsy-because-she-is-a-cat-and-cats-are-not-clumsy assistant, Zelda, I made a discovery.

When I am gone…remember me for who I am & not because I’m me. I know it makes no sense…but you’ll get it someday.

Teenaged angst all over one of my laundry baskets. I have no clue which one of my clowns wrote this and when and why. But I am sure they had their reasons to pour their heart out all over the bottom of this old laundry basket.

I get it. I had teenaged angst too. A lot of it. Too much of it. I poured it out all over the place. Funny how when I run across something I wrote years and years ago how sometimes I can get the pain and the emotion being expressed and other times I shake my head a little embarrassed because that really was tearing at my heart…that?! Perhaps at a certain age we aren’t supposed to understand that teenaged angst all that much…even if it was once ours.

I don’t know…

I get kind of philosophical when I’m doing laundry. And, as you can see it is hereditary.