State of Obvious

The answer to every question, every hope, every fear.  All wrapped up in two very different children.  And a spotted dog's backside.

In the fading hours of the day, the house grows still.  Almost sleeping, except that the lights are still on and probably the TV.  There's the hum and whistle of the hot water heater, and the cracking sound of settling foundations.  There's a fan in the boy's room.  And a heater whirring.  There's the dog, chewing on the chewy.  And the computer, keys tapping, fan spinning.  And me. The silence of the late-night hours are a haven.  A time to sit and think.  Or sit and not think, as the case may be.  Not a lot of "mommy can you" going on, blessed reprieve.  Not much eye rolling or sigh making or feet stomping.  I'd be lying if I tried to tell you these aren't part of a daily routine.  They are.  Life isn't perfect, it doesn't sound perfect or look perfect.  Sometimes, for fleeting moments, it feels perfect.  The stars align and the heavens smile and the world sings.  But, I must emphasize the fleetin...

Carly turned six.  S I X.  That's a lot.  She weighed less than six pounds when she was born.  And yet, here she is.  Six. Six things about Carly: 1.  Her favorite food is apple pie (today). 2.  Her favorite toy is "I think dinosaurs...because sometimes I have dinosaurs to play with and dogs.  I like dogs too.  They're my favorite too because I just don't know why.  Because I've seen dinosaurs before." 3.  The best thing about being six?  "I'm older than people...and I get to tell them what to do, and they don't."  (Type A much?) 4.  She has a variety of nicknames at six years old.  Car Bar.  Sass-a-frass.  Car Car.  Carburetor.  Carly Barly.  Mini might.  Midgy Might.  Carbrat.  Carly Cat. 5.  She wants to be a doctor when she grows up.  And a hair doer (like Shell, her godmother). 6.  She loves to wear her hair in a pony tail and nothing wou...

She just tooted, audibly (I don't smell it yet but I am sure I will), then turned around to look - ears cocked in surprise - at her tail end, then chased her tail as if it was the offender. Good Stuff.

Dear Self, Be glad your fiction doesn't have a following . (For the record, I really truly in my heart of hearts wish it had a following. And I wish I made tons of money off of it so I wouldn't have to borrow money or sweat bullets when it's not yet payday. But apparently I don't wish it so much to sit down and force myself to write for an hour a day yet. But it's almost to that point. Almost.) You will in fact get an eye infection in your other eye if you continue to use old contacts and are frequently too lazy to take them out at night. (Maybe bloodshot eyes will make me look mysterious. Probably more like drugged, but a girl can hope.) If the dog ran downstairs really fast and didn't come back when you called her, that's probably bad. (And smelly.) When the spelling word list for the week looks too advanced it probably is. The solution IS NOT to study for it only on the night before, but rather to study all week long. (You know, for the future.)...

Call That Girl Wish my super amazing SIL Angie a Happy Birthday (your gift will be in forthcoming box this month sometime, I hope) Make my bed (I wouldn't exactly call it forgetting though...) Send pizza party money to Josh's school Spend an hour writing (It's my new thing, I've yet to actually try it) Work on Christmas cards (I could at least address the envelopes or something) Bring the laundry basket downstairs Let the dog out Let the dog in, poor cold goggie Vacuum the family room ( convenient eh?) Ask about piano lessons Call about tutors Spellcheck before hitting publish Are you beginning to wonder if I remembered to do anything? Me too!

Our house has some new additions this weekend. Did you look closely ? Yep, that's Pepper aka Dr Pepper, Pep, Pepper Fepper, or (if you're Carly and can't remember what P name it is) Pokey. She's our new Puggle and was an early Christmas present for the parents kids. She already did her business three times in the house. She's a perfect dog. Everything in my life is perfect , remember? Carly is, by turns, scared to death of her and smoothering her with love. Josh tends to swing her around by the neck. We're working on it. My dad says it's sacrilege to put up decorations before Thanksgiving . I'm ok with that. Here is our fireplace mantle complete with my Grandma's Christmas village . Joy to the World!