I’ve been under the weather lately, and aren’t we all? Especially when it rains. There’s no getting over rain. There’s only under it. Unless you have an airplane, and I don’t.
In any case, let us all take a moment to be thankful for antibiotics.
So things have been busy, because if you’re under anything (especially weather) and surrounded by three boys with loud noises and a penchant of throwing hangers at unusual times, you’re busy. Busy keeping your head up, busy keeping the cat from being assassinated right before your eyes, busy eating yogurt so you can continue being thankful for antibiotics, busy painting your fingernails sparkly red so you can immediately remember that you need to put another log on the fire and spend ten minutes trying to get the log into the fire without smudging your nails. Mission Impossible.
Because of the aforementioned weather and general business, I was cranky when I woke up. My husband told the boys they could use my hair dryer as a gun and that led to screaming and fights over who’s turn it was to use my blow dryer as a gun, and I hadn’t had a drop of coffee.
It was enough to send me spiraling to the farm, so off I spiraled. I can’t pretend to be a parenting guru, but I can say that I enjoy being a mother and I enjoy my children, so even if they turn out rotten I had fun turning them out. I believe that if a mother feels like running down the street after the garbage truck screaming “Take me with yoooou!” before 7 a.m. it’s time for a change of scenery.
I don’t think we can control how our kids turn out exactly, but we can work at making the journey a pleasant one. If you have boys in your life that are trying to use your hair appliances as weapons, go outside. For the love of Hairspray, GO OUTSIDE!
Anyway, today at the farm my mother was talking to me about Chip the cat, who was dead. I couldn’t remember which farm cat Chip was, and then I didn’t know Chip was dead, so I was confused for a moment. Or two. Perhaps like you are now.
“Oh yes, Chip died suddenly in his sleep. We found him right outside our door. Dead. And Q was here for a visit when it happened so I showed him the cat. You know, so he would know what death looks like,” said my mother.
I can always depend on my mother to guide my children gently into the dark and stormy waters of reality.
“YEAH!” interjected Q (who is four by the way, and no stranger to death now), “Chip was dead, and all his body was chewed off and nothing was left except his head!”
I just stared at my Mother who began her defense. “No! He was not! He died in his sleep and he was all there, what are you talking about? He just looked like he was asleep!”
“No. His eyes were open,” retorted Q.
“Okay yes,” my Mother allowed, “Chip’s eyes were open, but he was very peaceful. He was sleeping with his eyes open.”
I went inside after that. Wouldn’t you?
That’s pretty much all I have for you tonight.
p.s. Tonight before bed, Q fell down while running around like a maniac. We asked him if he was alright and he said, “Yeah. I HAVE to be tough if I’m going to be The Hulk when I grow up.” So wise, so true.
p.p.s. Maybe I should be apologizing for this post. I feel a mild sense of wickedness, the sort of feeling you get when you get your little sister to dump your parent’s Document Shredder contents on the lawn of a high school friend in the dark of night. Not that I ever did that….it took him a few days to get all the little pieces out of the grass.
p.p.p.s. I still haven’t apologized. You see, this is how I talk in my brain, before I edit myself. I thought you should know.
p.p.p.p.s. That’s a picture of my cat, Dr. Claw, who is not dead.