As I write this, I’m watching an ant crawl all over my office wall. Back and forth, up and down. Around and around. It’s escaped the spider that has set up shop between two of the flower pots on my windowsill, either by being unusually cunning for an ant or simply because the spider feels it has enough to eat for now; the sill between the pots is littered with spider-wrapped corpses.
Yes, I’m behind on my cleaning.
After a week of unseasonable chill, spring is stretching her legs. I have ants in my house and weeds in my yard. Pollen in my nose, and a decided lack of work ethic. But there is a time to work, and a time to play. Balance. And I’ve been a bit low on fun as of late. So I’m ready to soak up this season.
Anya has made the next step in little-girldom: She’s started sleeping in her own bed. Well, on her own mattress, anyway. Which has been relocated to the floor next to my bed. Taking such baby steps removes much of the sting of this transition for us both. I miss my tiny baby, to be sure. But I love watching her become a strong little girl.
Lots of good articles this week. This article on household delegation gave me food for thought, even though I’m not sure there’s much in there that I don’t already do. This one, on all the possible reasons you didn’t get the job, is salve on my chapped soul. And this one made me cry.
I just think it’s wrong, all of these short, oddly timed television seasons. I miss the days when shows started in September and ran til May, and you only had a few short months to wait on your cliffhanger answers.
My seasons are coming to a close. And some shows are airing for a final season. I understand why; you don’t want to overstay your welcome, and in some cases (Bates Motel), there’s really only so far you can take the storyline anyway. But I’ve been immersed in these worlds for a while, and I will miss them when they’re gone.
I am very much in a Shins mood lately. Which is funny, considering I wasn’t that big a Shins fan. Which leads me to…
I can’t tell if this is a temporary phase or a sign of things to come, but I suddenly don’t know much about myself: How I want to dress and wear my hair, what music I want to listen to, what shows I want to watch (or if I’d rather read a book), what I want for dinner, what I want to do for a living, what I want to do with my life. I look at me and think “What do I like? What do I want? Who do I want to be?” And…I don’t know anymore. So that. I’m working on that.
Tomorrow, Anya gets her cast off. Hallelujah! Her wardrobe and our entertainment options will explode after that.
Making me happy:
This makes me both happy and sad: Kai is calling me Mommy instead of Mama. Just all of a sudden, my babies…aren’t. I adore the sound of “Mommy” from his lips. But I miss “Mama.” No one will ever call me “Mama” again.