Domestic Bliss

  • Censored

    Oh man, lots of things on my mind, most of them improper for public consumption.  The emotional load has been heavy lately, for a number of reasons, mostly related to extended family troubles (finance troubles, health troubles, all flavor and manner of trubs).  Nothing too juicy, I promise – I’m not meaning to be a tease.  I suppose my point is that it’s hard to write about things when what you want to write about it inappropriate, but it’s what’s on your mind, and it kind of crowds out the other things.  Right?  Write?  Write right rite? Anyway, I am going to try to shake that off, and just give…

  • Whiling Away the Day

    The cat is sleeping in a pile of clothes.  Clean clothes, formerly folded, but now kneaded into a kitty nest for her.  In the next room, pictures of her as a new kitten are popping up as the screensaver on the old laptop that I put out for Jack to play with while the Professor and I work on our own laptops, while the Saints play on tv in the background, while Jack ignores his laptop toy and instead combs my hair with a fork while I try to work, while Liam slumbers in his crib.  While While While – in any sentence in which I describe our lives right…

  • That Other One

    He is up to my knee already.  I used to lay him across my forearm – bum in palm, head in the crook of my elbow, nuzzled in close and sleeping.  That seems like yesterday, but it wasn’t.  In point of fact, yesterday he picked up Jack’s pirate hat, whacked it on his head, and said “Argh!”  Then he marched, arms swinging, all portly and self important, Arrghing around the room.  When he walks he leads with his belly button, like an ape, a tiny little ape, long arms flailing that slight bit behind his shoulders, a wide and frog-like stride, knees punching way out to either side of him.…

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  • August

    August is a month in which I have accomplished pretty much zero.  It’s dumb when you pay nearly a grand for your baby to go to a babysitter, but  you still get nothing done because you have to watch your preschooler because his stupid school doesn’t start until like four weeks after every other school in the city starts, ARGH.  I’d have liked to have delayed the babysitter by a month, but she has to pay her bills, and she would have had to find somebody else for that slot, leaving us babysitter-less, so there goes a grand on essentially nothing. (Not nothing.  It’s been a useful period of adjustment…

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  • This Is Not A Post About A Wedding

    I’m in my parents’ kitchen in Nashville, dropping crumbs of chocolate chip cookie into my baby son’s mouth and monitoring the doneness of some pasta boiling on the stove.  I have begun a wedding post, which sits safely in my drafts folder, but I won’t be publishing it til I have some pictures to include.  I want to tell it properly, and I am not typing in conditions that allow for precision in my writing.  (I.e., Liam is whining my ear off). My oldest just stumbled, blinking, into the light of the kitchen, still half asleep from his afternoon nap.  My back is twinging painfully, because I looked one millimeter…

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