little kid just came out of his room looking completely amazed.
"Do you know what I just realized?" he asked, with a look of total wonder on his face and his hands spread in front of him as if he held the world's secrets within them.
"What?" I asked, genuinely curious to know.
"Everything in the world makes music. Everything! If you just touch it right and listen hard enough...it all makes music!"
"Yeah?"
"Yeah! Marbles and chairs and...just everything! It all makes music! You just have to listen for it."
To live in his world!
May we all be so lucky to hear music in the rolling of marbles and the scraping of chairs.
Friday, August 29, 2014
Thursday, August 28, 2014
Word Worms
"Today in school we played a game with a gummy worm named Fred and two paperclips and we had to stretch Fred through..." a long story followed. I can't recall it because I wasn't fully listening anymore but I eventually tuned back in, "We did the best and we saved Fred so we got a prize. The prize was a gummy worm!"
"So, you celebrated rescuing the gummy worm by eating his brethren?" asked Big Kid.
"Did you just use the word brethren?" I thought I had misheard.
"Yes, is that weird? I think using a unique word can just make something sound so much better."
"Yeah, no, I don't disagree, that's why I like writing. I'm just impressed."
"It is a good word."
"Yes, it really is, I agree."
"So anyway! I saved Fred and got to eat a gummy worm..." little kid rightfully continued.
"That's awesome. That sounds like a really fun activity for school." I said.
"But it is weird that you celebrated saving a gummy worm by eating a gummy worm."
And it is weird that my 11-year-old can work the word "brethren" into a casual conversation.
"So, you celebrated rescuing the gummy worm by eating his brethren?" asked Big Kid.
"Did you just use the word brethren?" I thought I had misheard.
"Yes, is that weird? I think using a unique word can just make something sound so much better."
"Yeah, no, I don't disagree, that's why I like writing. I'm just impressed."
"It is a good word."
"Yes, it really is, I agree."
"So anyway! I saved Fred and got to eat a gummy worm..." little kid rightfully continued.
"That's awesome. That sounds like a really fun activity for school." I said.
"But it is weird that you celebrated saving a gummy worm by eating a gummy worm."
And it is weird that my 11-year-old can work the word "brethren" into a casual conversation.
Tuesday, August 26, 2014
Germ Warfare
Now Big Kid is home sick from school so I think it's safe to say that I will never spend another minute in my house alone ever again for the rest of my life. I will never know the sound of complete silence or the joy of wandering around in various states of undress able to watch anything from Lifetime movies to nearly pornographic HBO series while eating ice cream unashamedly for lunch.
My life as an individual is over forever because none of these people can or will go to their places.
PEOPLE, WE NEED TO GO TO OUR PLACES AND MY PLACE IS HERE. YOUR PLACE IS DEFINITELY NOT HERE FROM MONDAY THROUGH FRIDAY BETWEEN THE HOURS OF 8:45AM AND 3PM.
It's like I'm going to have to rent a room somewhere or God forbid, get a job that requires shoes, in order to have a place that I belong again.
Get well soon, Big Kid, I need my office back.
My life as an individual is over forever because none of these people can or will go to their places.
PEOPLE, WE NEED TO GO TO OUR PLACES AND MY PLACE IS HERE. YOUR PLACE IS DEFINITELY NOT HERE FROM MONDAY THROUGH FRIDAY BETWEEN THE HOURS OF 8:45AM AND 3PM.
It's like I'm going to have to rent a room somewhere or God forbid, get a job that requires shoes, in order to have a place that I belong again.
Get well soon, Big Kid, I need my office back.
Sunday, August 24, 2014
Dear little kid,
Eight years! Eight whole years of looking into your sweet face and marveling that you are mine.
You are openly affectionate and incredibly clever. You love people and animals, places and things with genuine warmth. You have an uncanny knack for understanding others and recognizing what they need, and a willingness to try to provide it for them.
At your birthday celebration, you were enchanted with a friend's baby. "Isn't she cute?" I asked, as you again reached down for her tiny hand. "She is God," you replied with a small smile on your face. You find the beauty in every small thing, everywhere.
And you bring beauty to so many of our life moments. You are the silly and the sweet that helps cement our family together. We would not be us without you.
Thank you for eight years of every day adventure, my little prince. You may be small, but you are a mighty and magnificent being and I can't wait to see where you take life.
I like you, I love you and I'll always protect you,
Mom.
I have learned so much through the honor of being your mother. Your carefree love of life, your open mind, your loving heart, your playful nature, your quick sense of humor -- you are a true joy to behold, and the good fortune of having front row seats for the rest of your life is not lost on me.
You are openly affectionate and incredibly clever. You love people and animals, places and things with genuine warmth. You have an uncanny knack for understanding others and recognizing what they need, and a willingness to try to provide it for them.
At your birthday celebration, you were enchanted with a friend's baby. "Isn't she cute?" I asked, as you again reached down for her tiny hand. "She is God," you replied with a small smile on your face. You find the beauty in every small thing, everywhere.
And you bring beauty to so many of our life moments. You are the silly and the sweet that helps cement our family together. We would not be us without you.
Thank you for eight years of every day adventure, my little prince. You may be small, but you are a mighty and magnificent being and I can't wait to see where you take life.
I like you, I love you and I'll always protect you,
Mom.
Friday, August 22, 2014
Family Baker
little kid's birthday is this weekend and he's decided he ONLY wants a cake baked by his brother.
His brother has no specific specialty, experience or skills in baking but no other option will do.
Big Kid is quite pleased and I think it's very cute and very sweet but going to be a lot of work for me with a questionable outcome. I've been craving ice cream cake, not a red velvet cake vaguely in shape of some Minecraft thing (this is the plan, from what I understand).
But it's not my birthday.
His brother has no specific specialty, experience or skills in baking but no other option will do.
Big Kid is quite pleased and I think it's very cute and very sweet but going to be a lot of work for me with a questionable outcome. I've been craving ice cream cake, not a red velvet cake vaguely in shape of some Minecraft thing (this is the plan, from what I understand).
But it's not my birthday.
Thursday, August 21, 2014
Dear Husband,
It has recently come to my attention that I need to add an addendum to our wedding vows.
13 years ago, I promised all kinds of stuff (everything but the obey part, because, come on, who are we kidding?) including to love you in sickness and in health.
And I meant it.
However, I need to exclude the first week of back to school from the sickness portion of that agreement. I'm not trying to be unsympathetic here and I'm pretty sure that you haven't chosen to be sick. I feel for you, I really do, but I need my house back like a thirsty man in the desert needs rain. Like a budding flower needs sun. Like an angry toddler needs the red cup and not the blue cup. Like an after bedtime mom needs wine.
I will wither away and die without it. Maybe I won't even wither away, maybe I will explode into a fiery ball of destruction which would be extremely damaging and traumatic for everyone involved. No one wants that to happen.
When I lightly suggested that we priceline you a hotel room for quarantine, you gave a feeble laugh and I wasn't sure how to tell you that this was not a joke. Don't you want a hotel room? I want a hotel room.
And now, two days in...? I'm getting sick. Oh no worries, you think, hop your sick little self into your quiet little bed -- but wait, someone is in there. He's been in there, sweaty and groaning, stealing the coldness from the sheets for days.
I tried to escape to yoga because it's quiet there, but when you have the sniffles, you become the jerk ruining everyone else's quiet and no one wants to do that. No one should want to do that. People should care about other people's quiet time. Sick people should go somewhere else and that's what I did.
So, get well soon, my love. I really, really mean it. And let's have a vow renewal where we add in the part about not being sick the first week of school and maybe let's make some edits to that whole "for richer or poorer part" but mostly the poorer part. I also think the traditional vows are remiss in not pledging prompt home and car repair work so let's write our own this time and get it right.
But really, get well. Soon. Like yesterday.
Love in sickness 51 weeks out of the year and in health 52,
Ashley
13 years ago, I promised all kinds of stuff (everything but the obey part, because, come on, who are we kidding?) including to love you in sickness and in health.
And I meant it.
However, I need to exclude the first week of back to school from the sickness portion of that agreement. I'm not trying to be unsympathetic here and I'm pretty sure that you haven't chosen to be sick. I feel for you, I really do, but I need my house back like a thirsty man in the desert needs rain. Like a budding flower needs sun. Like an angry toddler needs the red cup and not the blue cup. Like an after bedtime mom needs wine.
I will wither away and die without it. Maybe I won't even wither away, maybe I will explode into a fiery ball of destruction which would be extremely damaging and traumatic for everyone involved. No one wants that to happen.
When I lightly suggested that we priceline you a hotel room for quarantine, you gave a feeble laugh and I wasn't sure how to tell you that this was not a joke. Don't you want a hotel room? I want a hotel room.
And now, two days in...? I'm getting sick. Oh no worries, you think, hop your sick little self into your quiet little bed -- but wait, someone is in there. He's been in there, sweaty and groaning, stealing the coldness from the sheets for days.
I tried to escape to yoga because it's quiet there, but when you have the sniffles, you become the jerk ruining everyone else's quiet and no one wants to do that. No one should want to do that. People should care about other people's quiet time. Sick people should go somewhere else and that's what I did.
So, get well soon, my love. I really, really mean it. And let's have a vow renewal where we add in the part about not being sick the first week of school and maybe let's make some edits to that whole "for richer or poorer part" but mostly the poorer part. I also think the traditional vows are remiss in not pledging prompt home and car repair work so let's write our own this time and get it right.
But really, get well. Soon. Like yesterday.
Love in sickness 51 weeks out of the year and in health 52,
Ashley
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