Saturday, September 21, 2013

hi nugget arm

this is my morning view. it is da best. the kids painted those rocking horses for baby before he was born, the couch i put in my room because it is lounge style 10 foot long sophistication that i am trying to protect from kid feet, and a martini glass filled with gumballs because i do like kid feet in my room. (the creepy black ghost hand was a gift that reminds me of the movie Ghost when the dark black shadows would come and take the bad people away.)

Wednesday, September 18, 2013

sorry to lose

it is still 98 degrees but anything under 100 degrees is boot degree. my parents had cowboy boots they would buy at sam's town emporium down on the boulder highway. running up and down huge aisles of boots while sucking on my rock candy was a slice of heaven (a slice right below going to the library).  they were bona fide line dancing boots. dressing up in my mom's boots with my bathing suit seemed so right. it still kind of does.
the amount of flip flops being worn in public places is depressing. especially guys with bad toe nails in sandals. come on. let's all consider it boot weather.
sam edelman petty boots. made of awesome.
     If you wish to love you won't know whom to choose
There are none whose love you'd be sorry to lose
Not to love at all would be the better part 
Lest another seize and confiscate your heart.
     When evening descends on your deserted routes 
You won't be afraid and will say. "What boots
It to worry and fret? To rail at my luck?
Since time my actions like an apple will pluck." --John Ashbery "Some Words"
p.s. i like my baby with no footwear and in a white onesie.  color is often regrettable.

Monday, September 16, 2013

here is the point

So it's my birthday and that is not even the point.  Nor is the point my 6 year old left for school too tired and forlorn to say happy birthday to me. Nor is the point my 14 year old was being hair obsessed because it is picture day and missed the whole hour of seminary due to hair issues...she didn't say happy birthday to me. Nor is the point my calm collected 12 year old who was not late, not tired or not sad sauntered out the door in his new volcom shorts without saying happy birthday.  Oh, and the baby, i am pretty sure he was not saying happy birthday when he was crying for my orange juice.  So, the point is, so many other days with them are even better then the best birthdays. It's like i live a perpetual birthday because i have created my own fan club. That is pretty sick if you ask me.
So a couple weeks ago I got breakfast in bed for NO REASON.  (heart toast, so sweet). Last week i got a whole box of cupcakes just for the icing (because cake is no bueno) for NO REASON.  And so on.  I think i made my point.  Unbirthday or birthday, it is all about me.

Sunday, September 8, 2013


is there enough of me?  for myself, yes. the thought of spending eternity as me is simply not inspiring. blessedly there are my guppies to share life and whatever is after with.
the ever demanding issue/guilt is... am i able to give them enough. enough love, enough support, enough laughter, enough memories, enough mom? this topic could lend itself to pages of thoughts and acumen. (baby having no sense of personal space during mom and daughter time)
it is what it is: 4 kids and one mom. i am divided. (baby with mom talking to son time, this son actually loves mom talks)
(baby with me while son asks me to swim with him in the looks like i am doing a lot of sitting these days)  
i say i am doing the best that i can, but i know that is a lie. just so they know they are my world and my non-world.  maybe a nanny could semi help, or a sister wife.