or why i love her . . .

Mommy!

So it's past midnight, but I had a large coffee around 9:00 and I'm still wide awake. And though I should be doing homework (my notebook's open in front of me and the tab I'm taking notes from is still open somewhere - that counts, doesn't it?) I decided to punish myself by scrolling through your blog.

How is that a punishment, you ask? Because I went with the express purpose of looking for stories and pictures of Daddy. It's a sweet kind of torture. February starts on Sunday, and if you need me to, I will keep your flame for you as long as needed.

Because that was another story I found on your blog - the one where I fell apart, the one where you left message after message reminding me of how things get better. The one where support came flooding in from all sides.

And (speaking of stories) there is always the classic of the frog in the bathroom.

So I guess there are two purposes to this message - the original one was to bother you and ask if you wouldn't mind posting a letter from me to your friends. I realized I never thanked them for their support during my time in Wonderland.

But it turned into something else. Because who do I need to thank the most? You. Slowly, very slowly, I'm learning to see things from your perspective. I don't think I'll ever fully understand how much you do for me, but the little glimpses I get are staggering. Yes, we joke around with the conditional "How much do you love me? Enough to..." but the truth is it's an unconditional love.

It's not much when you think of it. I mean, it's just one month. But for as long as you need me, be it one month (hopefully) or longer, I will hold your hand and carry your flame. And pour you unnecessarily strong drinks. I understand I'm not always the best, I can't promise perfection, and this might come across as incredibly cheesy, but you're my mom and I love you. Unconditionally.

So, yeah.

Kidlet.

piggy back rider . . .

k1 and k2 at the beach.  yes, nothing is sacred . . . here they are honkin' around together. 

gotta love these two.

partially . . .

kiddo free weekend.  time to catch up on the little stuff like, oh, i don't know.  vacuum 74 cats worth of hair from the wood floors.  iron enough clothes to actually see the dryer again.  clean out the fireplace so the ashes are no longer billowing into the living room.  reset said fireplace in hopes it turns nordic outside.

i'm a list maker.  and yes, there was a list of chores to do today.  and yes, i iron all the tops before i attempt the bottoms because they are easier.  and yes, the tablecloth from thanksgiving may still need to be ironed.  so i ticked the tops off the list but certainly not the bottoms. they can wait.  they have lots of patience. 

somehow the kitchen got only partially cleaned.  enough so that i could find the sink.  and the oven.  and roast a chicken. slurp.

the toilets never got done.  they are in competition with the 76 station on I-10.  they'd be very unhappy if they lost.  i'll give them another 24 hours.

i actually did a load of laundry and was willing to do a second load but there weren't enough whites for a load. maybe if i actually scrubbed the floors, there would be enough no longer white rags to do the trick.  i wonder if i have enough bleach?

and so dear friends, i partially cleaned.  partially.  tomorrow morning i will go grocery shopping and maybe partially clean some more.  or not.  it seems i'm not partial to cleaning.

pippin the squirrel . . .

playing around while battling what i hope is a 24 hour bug.  if it doesn't go away, i'm calling an exterminator. 

kidlet the bartender . . .

i have a suspicion why january is a tough month for me.  it's the prelude to february.  the 25th to be exact.  so for the past three years, i've made it through the holidays and then sunk.  tomorrow i have a mental health tune-up scheduled. sometimes you just need a little help.

but tonight, well, tonight i asked kidlet to play bartender and make me a rum and coke.  i should have known better.  she is a tad heavy handed.  heck she pours all the bar profits into one glass.  i looked at the clear liquid and ice in one glass and the can of pepsi in the other and wondered where the pepsi was supposed to go.  yes, it was that full.  so i asked for a larger container.  i should have asked for the iced tea pitcher.  three hours later, i am still sipping and the glass is still half full. 

so good . . .

what does fried calamari, polo rosa maria, garlic mashed potatoes, sauteed spinach and garlic, and sogno di cioccolata, oh and a couple of glasses of wine mean?  carrabba's for kidlet and i.  slurp.

can i please just go back to italy now?

life is good . . .

yesterday, robin and i drove down the beach and noshed on fresh fish and chatted, spending a good part of the afternoon sitting in the sun overlooking the inter-coastal.  good food.  good friend.  good conversation.  drove home with the top down.  doesn't get any better.

this morning, it wasn't just chilly, it was downright cold.  the sprinkler man cancelled . . . something about not wanting to work while wet in the low 40's.  chortle.  he will be here tomorrow when the high will be in the 50's.

meanwhile inside, this:

was parked in front of this:

and to be truthful, i was parked right next to her.  just not snoozing.  yet.  i was playing with this:

another shot from jekyll island.