Inception

“Mommy?”, Jedi asked after arriving home from school.

“Yes”, I replied, expecting more video game nonsense that I’ve learned to tune out. When he’s not playing, he’s thinking about playing or talking about playing. I seem to have acquired one of those kids.

“I think I’m really sleeping right now and my entire life has been a dream”, he said.

“Well”, I paused, impressed at the sudden out-of-nowhere deep thought for a 7 year old, but also a touch frightened. Maybe this is a dream. Maybe I’m dreaming and he’s dreaming, and we’ve intertwined our consciouses. Then again, I don’t remember watching Inception with him, but maybe I did. “I suppose it could be”, I relented, “but I’m pretty sure we’re awake and this is actually happening.”

“But how do you know?”

Good question, one which I didn’t have an answer, aside from pinching him really hard. How do you know? If it is a dream, I could do without the past 7 months or so, but overall it hasn’t been that bad.

And that’s when the sky began to fall. Well, maybe not. I think it’s safe to steer clear of Leonardo Dicaprio movies for awhile, though.

Very Pretty

I’m not much of a makeup kind of girl. I used to wear a bit when I worked outside the home, before the kids, but I was never one to get completely made up. Since then, and in the midst of our many moves over the years, I had even managed to lose the bag containing my assortment of sorely outdated glosses and shadows. I didn’t even have a bottle of nail polish to my name. Replacing it all seemed like a task too daunting, however, especially when faced with the plethora of product in that department.

The other day, though, I mustered up the gumption to change all that. I admit, I’ve been feeling a bit down, so I thought it might be a tiny foot in the positive direction. In true form, I bravely treked down the aisle and picked the most boring, neutral shades available. But it was something, at least.

When I returned home, I poured my new purchases on the bathroom counter and began to rack my brain to remember how it was all supposed to be applied. All those years of reading Seventeen had to be good for something. The entire time, Abby was at my side, watching with both confusion and awe.

I leaned close to the mirror and smeared a bit of eyeliner on my upper lid. “This isn’t so bad”, I said to no one in particular. “Why did I stop messing with this stuff again?”

That’s when I looked down to find Abby had confiscated the eyeshadow. With brush in hand, she swiped a streak of sparkling brown across her forehead, then another down her cheek. “Pretty?”, she smiled.

Ah yes, that’s why.

Kids Break Stuff

Did you know that? Because they do. They break stuff. And then they keep breaking the same stuff over and over again when you try to get it fixed. Which is why everything in my house is crap held together by duct tape and superglue. There are times, however, when even that doesn’t work.

We have one light in our living room. Or had. It’s a floor lamp, because I know better than to attempt a table lamp. For the same reason we have no decorative accessories adorning where reachable, those things would go flying through the air before the first day is done.

We had a floor lamp, which we managed to keep functioning for over a year with nary a touch by the kids. Then we switched the furniture around. And moved that floor lamp to a different location. All of a sudden, it was the funnest thing in the world to knock over. Soon, that lamp ceased to function, but it led a good, long life so aside from sitting in the dark for a few nights until a new source of illumination was purchased, I wasn’t terribly inconvenienced.

Then, I bought a brand new lamp. And I enjoyed it’s light for not even a week before the kids began their attack. Soon, that lamp was a broken, lopsided mess, too, but I refused to give up on it. I duct taped, I super glued, I even did my best MacGuyver and tried to adhere it together with string and a plastic cup. Don’t ask. Needless to say, my efforts were futile. My not even a month old lamp refuses to work and I am stuck once again sitting in the dark.

Because kids, they break stuff.

So if you were to ever come over to my house, pay no attention to the floppy broken lamp. I refuse to buy a new one until my children move out. Though it might be too dark in here to notice anyway.

Sunday Shoo!

I was there instead of here. Again. I’m sorry. I swear I’ll be back soon.

A Study in Birth Order
The Forbidden

Sunday Shoo!

Don’t worry, I haven’t disappeared again. I just haven’t been feeling lighthearted enough to post here. But this, too, shall pass eventually. In the meantime, I have been posting more at From the Monkey Bars. My goal is to get that up and running better, since I haven’t been able to devote much energy to it ’til now. On that note, you’d be surprised how much time it takes to sign up for a bunch of stuff and basically SPAM people, amazing really.

A few of my entries there this week:

My 7 Year Old is on Facebook
By Any Other Name

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