Etc and so forth

I hate writing about things I hate

A barrage of noise

On the internet

Brigitte Macron shoving her husband in the face (kind of funny how stupid this was)

GLP1s

And face lifts you’d never know were face lifts (Anne Hathaway now?!)

And while these things are working well for a lot of folks

And I think

After my helluva month

I should just throw my towel in

And not have to get back to the drawing board

And really address the root cause

Of why I ate 3 unreal PB cups

And washed them down the two delicious chunks of a Levain cookie

At 3 PM…

(But honestly, don’t regret)

So instead of writing about noise

I thought I’d write

That I am okay

I’m taking a deep breath

And circling back

To things things tried and true

That have worked for me

Things I can achieve

Ease

Mostly

Sleep will come soon(ish?)

When the children’s nightmares at 3 AM stop

Or an accidentally shut bedroom door doesn’t startle a child awake

Or a stuffy nose doesn’t need

Head propping

And humidifiers

At midnight

Measuring Motrin at 3 AM

My husband holding the baby

With bags under his eyes

Silently wondering

What has come of our lives

But we’d do it all over again

And never change a thing

(I dunno, Matt, you feel this way too, right?😅)

---

I’m watching our son scatter Lego

All over our dining table

All week

He’s close to finishing

It’s a big one!

And I see the Scottish mist over my roses out my dining room doors

But the image is pierced by an atrocious bowling set from Target

Sitting atop my marble side table

That used to have style

Errr still does

But has become more function these days

And I think

One day

None of the crap(!) will be here

The living room will be a

museum

Of our accumulated lives

And memories

But there won’t be the mess

Of children’s toys

And so very few interruptions while I write my ditties to you

(What will I write with time?!)

I just can’t stop seeing the images

Of my children’s lives

Blurred

All over this house

And while sometimes the interruptions

Are intrusive

But often hilarious

And painfully poignant

And it just feels like a bubble of time

I want to trap

Like those rainbow parachutes

You used to fling up into the air

In elementary school

And run under

And sit on the edge

trapping the air

Into a forever rainbow fort tent

And inside the bubble

you’re the only things that exist

In that one moment of time…

Matt coming home from work

teaching Morgan to walk

(Damn bowling pins made its way into the picture again! I can’t get rid of them.)

Like I said

I sit on the couch and look at all this life

All this

(Gesturing around the room)

And I think

One day

I’ll be grasping for the ghosts of my children

Memories of days like today

Sitting on my sofa

Looking out the doors

Into in my garden

At a Scottish mist

In the spring

Falling on my roses in the garden

And I’ll dig up this moment

This memory

And think

Maybe the bowling pins weren’t that bad

(And book a ticket to see my children asap!!! But hopefully they’re still living at home and letting me tuck them in and be their soft landing from nightmares and come get me when they were surprised the door to their bedroom was closed a little more than they liked at 3 AM, etc and so forth.)

I hate that ending with

Etc and so forth!

Almost worse—

Could go either way—

Than news about a president being pushed in the face by his wife

Or how Anne Hathaway

Age 42

Looks 22

Again.

My brain hurts

I think it’s the stupid news

When I open up

Social media

But it could also be

The huge carrot

Morgan used

To wallop me

On the head

Right in my left temple yesterday.

Now I don’t have to end

With etc and so forth!

(Oh, crap.)