dar liomsa (in my opinion)

Housework is the endless effort to make your home appear as if no one lives there.

I have realized  that the repetitive action of laundry, dishes, dusting and vacuuming are all for naught once my children arrive home from school.

It takes an entire day to return this house to normal (and by normal I mean to make it look like 3 kids and a dog don't actually live here,)

And maybe they don't. They are only here long enough to soil clothes, stain carpets and dirty dishes. Once they leave for the day, my hours are spent putting it all back together again.

Why?

It's the  question I often asked myself as I cleaned up toys while they napped.

What is the point. I mean, other than it warms my OCD heart to have things neat and tidy.

Some days I think, 'why bother?'

 

 

If I were a political blogger (which I am not), today's blog would be loaded with a rant about a ridiculous interview I witnessed over the weekend.

An interview where a staunch, sweater - vest wearing Republican accused our current president of being a 'snob' for encouraging today's youth to aspire to attend college.

A snob, he said.

He then went on to explain that college is a place where wild abandon lives. Where liberal minded professors fill the minds of young adults with lofty ideas. Where sex and other wild things occur. A terrible place. And he should know, because I'm pretty sure he has quite a few degrees from a variety of institutions.

This somewhat older and wiser man, speaks with authority, a buttoned up conservative.

Luckily I am not a political blogger and instead spent my Sunday evening watching endless commentary on evening gowns and jewelry. I watched as movie stars doted on one another, and gasped when one had a near miss with a wardrobe malfunction.

As a college graduate, this (almost) nipple appearance did not rattle me.

Having been educated by left wing hippie types, I was totally okay with it.

 

 

I try not to be too envious of other people.

I do my best not to compare myself to others.

I do, however, wish I were more like some of my friends.

My friends who, are told only a sentence or two of a juicy story and don't beg for more.

Friends who listen, but don't pry.

I, on the other hand, listen to every story told with a shovel.

I dig and dig and unearth more than the storyteller ever wanted to tell.

Totally because I am a writer, of course.

 

Baseball Season is (almost) here!

I am thrilled about the start of the little league season.

I'm not sure what excites me more.

The trip to the overpriced sporting goods store to fit three growing children for new cleats.

Or maybe the cost of bats, gloves, and sliders that have mysteriously disappeared since last spring.

Maybe it's the endless supply of sports drinks that my children plan to consume.

Or the chilly evenings in March we will spend on the practice field.

Nope, its none of those.

I know why I'm so excited about the start of the season.

It's the overheard conversations in the bleachers that will become tomorrow's blog posts!

Play ball!

 

When life is predictable and safe, you wake each morning knowing exactly where you are going and what you are doing.

Occasionally, the brakes are hit and normal stops.

Normal changes.

You suddenly find yourself heading in another direction, confused by the ramblings of your GPS.

It is in these times, that you are truly living.

It is in these moments, that you hear yourself breathing as if for the first time.

You hear your heart race, feel the wind in your hair, and possibly sweat on your brow.

What appears in the moment to be fear and panic, are not.

You are experiencing life, in the raw.

Embrace it!

 

Life can be measured in years.

Life can be measured in accomplishments, awards, and trophies.

When you're a mom, life is measured by exactly how many of your children will need to bring treats to school for Valentine's Day. The older ones falling off the list. This year, in our house, only one remains.

Only one child will bring a treat or folded up heart to each classmate.

Only one child remains young enough to celebrate.

Sad, really.

Because I truly believe one can never be too old for hearts and chocolates.

 

In my pursuit to have this blog become a syndicated column, I have realized many things.

One being, I will be forced to abandon this crazy style in which I have been writing.

My total disregard for paragraphs will not be tolerated in the publishing world.

Also, I may have to abandon writing about every person I meet in my travels for fear of offending (well no not really, I'll probably continue with that).

My columns will definitely need to grow in length and content if I ever expect to be published and read in places other than this blog.

Simple sacrifices I am willing to make for a paycheck.

Because everyone knows you're not a writer until someone actually pays you to write. Right?

 

I have yet to dive into a really good book this winter.

I totally blame the weather.

In winters past, my favorite place to be was under  a blanket, next to the fire, devouring a good read.

Or wrapped up in a puffy jacket, behind the wheel of mini van, reading while supervising the kids at the sledding hill.

Snow days meant days off from school and piling into my bed with the kids each of us reading, cozy and warm.

This spring- like winter we've been expereincing has instead inspired me to clean, de-clutter, and re organize more than I normally would in Januarya nd February.

I am way ahead of scheduled in spring cleaning department and very far behind on the good juicy read department.

I am starting my stockpile of summer reads now.