I probably should apologize in advance for this blog post. It is a frightening glimpse into the randomness of my brain.
Really, nobody should be forced to spend a few moments inside my head. So if you want to just skip today’s post and come back when I actually write something cohesive and thoughtful and pulled-together, I understand.
Of course, I don’t actually remember my last long period of cohesive thought and I barely remember the last uninterrupted, complete conversation I had; so if your’e waiting on cohesive and pulled-together, you might try one of those blogs from my blog-roll.
Ok, now for my random thoughts —
Isn’t this the cutest 4-year-old? Some days I just want to eat him up!
Have I ever mentioned that I have an identical twin? She’s just almost 27 years younger than I. Seriously, this kid doesn’t have any of her dad’s DNA. We just cloned me.
This is my kid on Halloween. He dressed up like Tony Hawk. Right after this picture, he kept messing with the skateboard and slipped and did a face-plant right on that porch. The bridge of his nose still hasn’t healed.
It reminds me of when he was 2 and 3. He liked to climb and fall. He would climb onto the back of the couch and free-fall, face-first, with his hands to his side. At the last possible moment, he would reach out his arms and catch himself. Except, of course, for the times he forgot to stretch out his arms. Then he would just fall onto his face. In nearly every picture we have of him as a toddler, his face is all covered in rug-burn and scabs.
What amazed me about all that — the pain of falling on his face and bleeding never deterred him from climbing back onto the couch (or rail of the baby crib) and falling again. To him, the rush of adrenaline from climbing and falling was worth the pain. And that’s how he rolls. He is a daredevil, a risk-taker.
After that photo, when he face-planted on the porch, he jumped up, sucked it up, and said, “I’m OK.” Not a tear, not a complaint. His sisters and I were oohing and aahing over him; his brothers were telling him how cool it looked and how he looked “even more like a real skateboarder now;” and he just grinned at them. That tiny thrilling moment on the skateboard was worth the pain and scabs (which will undoubtedly look very nice in our family Thanksgiving photo). It’s really enough to make this mother need a Xanax. Seriously, I think Xanax was created for mothers of sons like this.
Next random thought — my living room looks like a Goodwill truck crashed through our window and exploded its contents all over the place. Nevermind that the Goodwill truck would have to be flying through the air to crash through our third-floor window, not all analogies are perfect.
Piles of clothes are everywhere!
Really, it’s a mess in here! My husband would like his recliner back.
Why am I showing you embarrassing photos of my messy living room? Well, I want you to feel better about your housekeeping skills. Hey, I’m here for you like that.
And since I’m surrounded by these piles of clothes, that’s what’s on my mind today. I have to finish sorting these clothes and packing for our trip to WV and SC. I pulled out all the long pants and long-sleeved shirts that I’ve had boxed up for a while. Then there’s the challenge of seeing what fits whom. It’s quite ridiculous that we have this many clothes. I could clothe a small village of children with all this stuff!
And so, I’ve been sorting and stacking and filling bags to donate. My 4-year-old (the cute one with the crown) does not need 7 sweatshirts. We live in Florida, for Pete’s sake! He also does not need 6 flannel shirts. What was I thinking?
So I’m purging.
But first, I have to finish sorting and stacking. And then I have to get over the sappiness I feel about some of these articles of clothing. That size 3 rugby shirt I just put in the give-away bag — I have pictures of each of my 4 boys wearing that shirt. Awwwww. Was that big skate-boarding 8-year-old really that small? Yes, and it felt like *sniff, sniff* yesterday.
Clearly I spend too much time trapped in this apartment with piles of clothes. I’m getting far too emotional about laundry.
Ok, I am going to think of something else now. I’m taking my mind off the Goodwill explosion in my living room.
This was the sunset last night.
Isn’t it beautiful? This is the lake beside our building. The sunset was gorgeous. And it’s like that every night, only far prettier some nights. And I get to live here. And look at it every night. Lucky me.
Now, Lucky Me gets to sort and stack and count and pack shirts. Enough of my random thoughts for today.
How about you? What randomness is going on in your brains?