Tuesday 25 June 2013

In the Dark

I lie awake

plop
listening to the tap drip
testing my faith.

plop
The sound gives voice to my worry
my fears

plop
my regrets
my 'what if's?'.

plop
Consuming me.
Devouring me.

plop
I yearn for light
for the responsibilities of the day

plop
that allow my soul some refuge
distracting me

plop
from the questions I don't want to answer
the realities I don't want to face.

plop
The future that may exist.
Or may not.

plop
The tap won't be broken forever ...
it can be fixed ... right?

plop
Right?


plop


plop


plop


plop
I taste the salt of my tears ...
it's not just the tap leaking tonight.

plop
Each of us weeping
alone

plop
in the dark.


Plop.
I've GOT to get that damn tap fixed.



I am submitting this post to the Yeah Write Weekly writing challenge - head on over there to check out some amazing posts by some fantastic writers :)



Tuesday 11 June 2013

Where Oh Where Can Your Little Brains Be?

Sigh.

For the past few weeks I have been complaining that I simply don't understand what has happened to my children. It's like they have lost their ever loving minds!

We are in the final few weeks of school, and they have completely forgotten the morning routine - you know, that super difficult one that involves eating, brushing your teeth, and getting dressed. I understand it may be perceived as somewhat complicated; however to be fair, we've been doing this for 10 months now and I haven't 'changed it up' just for fun. So why do I have to repeat each step at least a million three times and endure the cacophony of sobbing and squeals of "I don't know what to do next?!?" each and every morning?

Then, when they return from school, it starts again. They feign exhibit complete surprise when I point out the mudroom, their coat hooks, and shoe baskets. Somewhere in the school time vortex, an entire portion of our house simply disappears from their brains! Their eyes fill with blank stares wonder as I describe how to hang up their coats and - gasp - put away their shoes. Every single day.

Next comes the inevitable merry go round musical of "I'm hungry", "Dinner will be served in 20 minutes", "I don't like that", "I'm starving", "Why can't I just eat now?", "You're sooooo mean", and so on and so forth. It's no wonder I'm halfway through a bottle of Gin by the time dinner gets on the table!

And don't get me started on outside time. We have some simple rules in our house with respect to the outdoors. You wear a helmet and shoes (and preferably clothes as well) when you ride a bike or scooter. Shovels are for killing gophers, not digging up the grass. Put your things away when you are finished with them lest they be run over by a car or lawnmower. Easy peasy.

Nope. Not at my house.

This afternoon while I was visiting with a neighbor who had stopped by, B proceeded to dig several holes in the backyard - presumably the ones already immaculately dug by the gophers were not sufficient. I was finally able to wrestle the shovel away, but not before a humiliating demonstration of how I am no match for a six year old strength wise.

Then, later this evening, we had a guy show up to help us locate an electrical line we had buried several years ago. The kids went nuts. E was riding around the driveway at top speed on her scooter, apparently oblivious to my nagging reminders to "put a helmet on". The boys each grabbed shovels and practically wrapped themselves around the poor guys legs as they eagerly watched him locate the line. B got bored and started digging holes in the grass again. I begged him to stop in between yelling at E to put a helmet on or her scooter was going to the dump. Then Z started crying because I wouldn't let him start digging up the flowerbed to expose the now located line, exclaiming "You never let me do ANYTHING!!!!"

I began to try and herd the kids into the house to get ready for bed. By now the boys were trying to fight each other with shovels, and E was sobbing on the front step because she had finally found her helmet. I begged. I pleaded. And in a moment of sheer exasperation, exclaimed "For the love of God, can you please just turn your brains on for 1 minute?!?"

B threw down his shovel, stamped his feet, and shouted "We.Don't.HAVE.Any.Brains!"

Well now, I guess my suspicions have been confirmed.

Case closed.


Now, head on over to the Yeah Write moonshine grid for some other great reading this weekend :)