Some things I've learned about 5am

1. It's dark. And cold. And dark. And cold.

2. No amount of caffeine can give 5 am any sort of rose colored tint. It's fucking 5 am.

3. David and Kate are chipper, excited, happy, ready and willing participants in all that 5 am has to offer.

I'm not sure that they are my children.

And, it might be a long day.




(the freaking sunrise)

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Things you don't want your car to say to you

So, I have a new car.

We've been working on our relationship.
He automatically locks the doors for me - a bit annoying, but we are working through it. I probably shut the doors a bit harder than needed. He'll have to deal.

Yesterday was our first real time driving in the snow together.

It wasn't the best experience for either of us.
A couple of turns that I sort of slid into, a couple of weird shimmies.

I noticed as I was sliding out of my driveway, that an "ESC" light pops up on my dashboard.

Um, what? Escape? Is that what "ESC" stands for?

Is the escape warning meant for me or my car?

Is it a command for my safety? An, "oh darling, please vacate the vehicle immediately for I fear I am unable to make this turn without sliding."

Or is it more of a plea for his own? "Escape! Escape! Please, please park me back in the garage where it is warm and safe."

Either way, my car is a wuss.


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Logical Conclusions

The boot on the left is one I bought for David for next year, the one on the right is mine.




They are the same size. I actually wore David's boots outside while shoveling the driveway today.

Two logical conclusions can be drawn from this surprising and unexpected phenomenon:

1. My son has freakishly large feet. Or maybe mine are freakishly small.

2. I am the size of a 6 year old boy.

I'm not really fond of either conclusion.

(but will probably buy myself a pair of the boots like David's anyway)

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Some unexpected wisdom from Elton John

Today is Kate's birthday.

I told her that we could do whatever she wanted today.

During breakfast she made her first proclamation:

Kids are in charge today

The conversation went something like this:
(David wanted to get up from the table, I wanted him to sit)

Kate: It's okay David. You can get up. I've decided that kids are in charge today because it's my birthday.
David: Hey! Yeah! You guys can't say "it's time to clean up now" today.
Kate: And, you two have to do all the cleaning.
David: Even the dishes.
Kate: Because we are in charge.
David: And, I'm going to play video games all day.

And so on.

Lots of whispering and giggling followed.

I've been reminded quite a few times already.

Kate: Remember mom. Kids are in charge today.

I think she likes being charge.

My dad tells me on my birthday every year how he remembers the day I was born like it was yesterday.

Seems hard to believe that Kate is already 4. We like to tease her that she started screaming before she was even really delivered. And then didn't really stop for a year or so.

My dad also tells me how my brothers and I are the best things he's done with his life.

Kate was pretty unexpected.
A world without Kate seems like a pretty sad place though.



I hope you don't mind
(I hope you don't mind)
That I put down in words
How wonderful life is while you're in the world
- actual wisdom from Elton John, Elton John - your song

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Ticking away the moments that make up a dull day

I had mentally decided this year that I wanted to try blogging every day. I try not to call these mental decisions that happen around the first of the new year resolutions - that's just too much pressure. And they just end up broken. Mental decisions is better.

I think every day for me is just overkill though.
I mean, one day talking about how I want to blog every day, but then there's still 364 entries left.

So, you would probably end up with this:

January 10, 2012: Pizza for dinner tonight.
January 11, 2012: Tired from a long day.
January 12, 2012: Stayed in our pajamas all day today.
January 13, 2012: Pizza again for dinner tonight.

Not really exciting.

The truth is that most of our days are spent going through the motions.

Today, Kate had dance in the morning. The library and a quick trip to the YMCA followed. The kids have been bickering all day. At one point, I politely explained that in no way, shape or form was I going to listen to the two of them fight all day. Kate burst into tears and said, "But mom, David has been mad to me all year."

Some days I long for *something* ...

But, all too soon David and Kate will be in school all day and I'll be left wondering where the time went.

So, that's life. At least for now anyways. Slightly dull, but always full.
And more often then not, pizza for dinner.



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A mothers art

Yesterday in the car on the way home from the grocery store:

Kate: mommy mommy mommy mommy mommy mommy mommy mommy mommy mommy mommy mommy mommy mommy ....

.... and so on.

She didn't need anything. She was just saying mommy over and over and over again, in a sing-songy voice.

About half way home, I started laughing because I had finally tuned her back in and realized what she was doing -- which just made her sign it louder.

My brain occasionally goes on autopilot for a couple minutes. It just needs a couple minutes to process the day or get caught up, without the constant chatter and background noise from the kids.

But, then it's back.

... And listening to an encore rendition of "mommy, mommy, mommy, mommy."

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A Shadow of a Thought

There's this great scene in American Gods, by Neil Gaiman, when the mysterious Mr. Wednesday asks Shadow for a snow storm to distract everyone while he robs a bank (or something like that -- it's been a bit since I've read the book). And Shadow creates a storm, just by thinking it.

I think might have done something like that.

This fall was hard for me.

Lots of changes and me scrambling to keep up and keep it all together.

I remember thinking that I just couldn't handle another winter like last winter -- gray, cold, white.

And so, I think I willed winter away this year.

The sun was shining today and melted most of the snow from this weekend. I didn't even wear a coat. It felt good. I feel good.

And, I just needed this. Not just today, but the past couple months. The snow feels suffocating at times. It becomes a chore to leave the house -- the hats and gloves and boots, brushing off my car, the cold that seeps into your bones. Even if it snows every day for the rest of winter, there's really only a month or so left.

So, the inevitable conclusion is that I am a god. Or at least god-like.

(don't worry, we can still be friends)