Stationary Unicycle

The kids have been sick with a cold for a few days now and should be feeling somewhat better today, once they trip trap down the stairs I'll see if I'm right about that. In the meantime, I am coming down with this delightful virus. I understand how viruses work, but there is that part of my underdeveloped villager brain that thinks this cold is God's divine plan and he want to make me suffer twice. Once while catering to sick children, picking up countless dirty tissues off the floor, the table, and the arm of the couch, and watching the same 3 episodes of Myth Busters over and over and over again.    The second round of punishment, when my kids are well and need me to continue to wash their clothes, clean the house, cook meals and play referee and coach,with my head full of snot and lungs full of phlegm and body aches and a fever.    What I'd really like to do is sit  on the couch, blow my nose, leave my dirty tissues everywhere and watch episodes of...

"We become sad in the first place because we have nothing stirring to do."  Herman Melville   "Find things that stir you. Open yourself. Get stirred. "   Margaret Miller-Finch Take that anyway you want. Sounds like it could be sort of fun.      When the children were new and small and wondrous, before their brilliance burned me blind, I was happy. Well, perhaps I'm waxing nostalgic. That's the only sort of waxing I do, neither legs nor floors, only nostalgia. Thinking back on the blur of early motherhood,  an image of myself  flickers before my eyes. Linda Blaire and Mother Theresa in one body, looming there in the shadows. Lurking, menacing, yet humble and loving.    One moment lovingly bathing the child with lavender scented bubbles and warm water, patiently dressing and diapering the child, gently rocking him to sleep, tucking the sleeping babe in his cozy crib.   The next, smashing and stomping and ki...

I'm smart enough to realize I am not brilliant but not dumb enough to be happy. It's sort of like being tall enough to see up in the cupboard but too short to reach the can of beans on the top shelf. I can get a step stool, or even clamber onto the counter like a middle aged monkey, stand to my staggering 5' 5" with my dirty feet planted firmly on the counter top and grab the beans, but I'm not motivated enough to do that. Not for beans. Chocolate yes. My son has somehow come to the conclusion that he is stupid. He says it dozens of times every day. "I'm stupid." My son has been asking questions about intelligence. He's heard about the IQ test. He wants to put himself in a place. He wants a score, a grade.  He wants to prove he's either as smart as he thinks he is or as dumb as he feels. My son took an IQ test in 1st grade as part of the assessment to determine the nature of his learning difficulties. What we found w...

I've been working on some stuff, writing stuff. Not necessarily blog stuff, just stuff stuff. The danger is that if I don't just write in a flurry and put it out there I don't finish anything. I write something. I put it away. I come back to it. I re-read. I fix things that really need fixing. Stupid grammatical errors, stupid spelling mistakes.  I move things around that need to be moved. I tweak and shuffle and rethink and rework and I cut things. I cut things I like and that stings a little but not as much as it used to. This process continues and more and more things fall away. Is this bit necessary? Too wordy? repetitive? Yes? cut cut cut cut cut Eventually I've got one word on the page, fuck. Fuck. No surprise there but it is one of my favorite words.  It's effective, it's sharp, it's simple. But perhaps it's still too much. Perhaps the fffff is unnecessary, or the uh, or the ck. It's been said,...

I haven't written anything in a week.  I've been cranky. I've been a cranky bitch and when I'm not being a cranky bitch, I'm sucking down huge quantities of carbs. I'm sucking carbs like a ... like a fucking carb sucking machine. I'm telling you now, do not piss off the pissed off perimenopausal woman with PMS.  Do not.  I've had to deal with a larger number of ass holes than usual recently.  They have only themselves to blame, being all ass holey near me when I'm in all my carb sucking cranky bitch glory. If only they knew how much restraint I was showing.  So my eyes glowed red and the tendons in my neck were taut, I raised my voice and may or may not have punched a wall or thrown a thing.... I didn't actually bite anyone, hard.  Anyway,  I'm feeling some better but, Jesus, this middle age thing is shit.  Arthritis is acting up in my knee, in my foot, in my hands. I'm all stiff and ac...