RETROSPECT Back when i didn't care what i said, or what i did I lived I was beautiful. I was young. I was confident. I was stupid. I was free I was unafraid to go in the direction of my dreams Even though I had no idea where the fuck I was going, or how to get there. Now I'm stuck. You got rid of your panther, I always knew you would. I couldn't afford to get rid of mine so here it is a hideous stain of what once was that i can never get rid of. When people ask me what it is, I chuckle and remember the story so perhaps-in retrospect-it was worth it. On the other hand, in retrospect, It reminds me of you and it reminds me of the simple promises we made to each other that seemed impossible to break like us. Or so we thought. Retrospect is a luxury that along with many other things I've had to give up, I can no longer afford.

It's been a long time...

Yeah. I know. Craig this is for you. The unfortunate thing about this post is that I don't really have much to write about right now-the kids are asleep-finally-after fighting with me over who is going to hold the book and turn the pages during story hour-they actually won, ripped one of the pages (my husband is going to kill me-he gets so upset when the boys get after the books) and in a fit of rage and misunderstanding, I just don't understand why they won't sit with me, thoughtfully engaged like they do with their father-well, that's a lie. I know why. I started to let them hold the books when I read to them because I think it's a good practice. It's like they are actually reading; the way they flip through the pages and talk to themselves, pointing at the pictures and stuff. However, they started to get overexcited, fighting among themselves for who would get control of the words and the colors, in essence who would wield the power that reading and learning is. As I said, they tore a page in the book, the one thing my husband begged me not to let them do, so I tore the books away from them and they were left without a story to put them to sleep. To my surprise they bawled for about two minutes and then complete silence as they fell fast asleep to the sounds of Singers and Swing on Music choice on t.v. My poor babies...I'm sure they were tired. Today was a long day and their naps were continually interrupted. At least they got to hold the book and flip through the pages, which they wouldn't have been able to do if daddy were home. The book they were fighting over is pretty awesome so I don't blame them for wanting to hold it. It's called "One", by Katherine Otoshi and it deals with colors, counting, bullying, self-esteem and it's just so brilliantly done. So colorfully poignant! Then there's the classic "Where the Wild Things Are," by Maurice Sendak, which I hoped would distract them and well, what can I say? I don't blame them for wanting to take that from me too. I can't wait until they are truly old enough to understand that one. I guess the real issue here is the difference in our parenting styles. Sometimes I think hubby is a bit too rigid; and I think I'm right-mommy always knows best, but then when I see the obliterated books, ( "The Very Hungry Caterpillar," by Eric Carle is another victim) I understand his point-the books need to be around for when they can actually read and understand them. Right now they aren't talking, I know they aren't actually reading or counting but I'm anxious and I want to give them a head start. I actually got them "Mama Bear, Mama Bear," also by Eric Carle, which is a fabric book, which is perfect because they can eat it if they like, which they seem to enjoy- try to tear it apart, smash it, step on it toss it in the garbage, but of course they have no interest in destroying that book because of course, it can't be destroyed. So what the hell is my point with this blog post? Nothing really...I just wanted to do what I've always done. Reintroduce myself and I'm not making any promises, but I will try to keep posting regularly. You see, it's not that I haven't been writing-actually, I've written more since my kids were born then I did before I had them. I guess there's a sense of urgency now. I've been writing. I can assure you. Besides, it's a late night, I'm home alone and the kids are asleep so it's an opportune time to do some stream of conscious writing. Well, maybe this is not true stream of consciousness but you don't want to know what my consciousness is streaming right now. That being said, it's time for a night cap. Hey Craig-are you listening? Oh...and I apologize for that grotesquely humongous head of mine that takes up way too much of the screen-I can assure you I am the very antithesis of what that stupid picture represents. I'm trying to get rid of it...so bear with me. Good night. Talk soon?