tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-64687200993510840792024-03-28T23:28:06.373-04:00Confessions of the Caffeinated:Confessions of the Caffeinatedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02668985059078459859noreply@blogger.comBlogger336125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468720099351084079.post-39965354182609968002024-03-20T16:02:00.000-04:002024-03-20T16:02:07.244-04:00...29(in days gone by)...<div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: center;"> <i style="font-size: large; text-align: center;"><u><b>In Days Gone By:</b></u></i></div><span style="text-align: center;"><div style="font-size: small; text-align: center;">20.March.2019</div><div style="font-size: small; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div><div class="" dir="auto"><div class="x1iorvi4 x1pi30zi x1swvt13 xjkvuk6" data-ad-comet-preview="message" data-ad-preview="message" id=":rei:" style="padding: 4px 16px;"><div class="x78zum5 xdt5ytf xz62fqu x16ldp7u" style="display: flex; flex-direction: column; margin-bottom: -5px; margin-top: -5px;"><div class="xu06os2 x1ok221b" style="margin-bottom: 5px; margin-top: 5px;"><span class="x193iq5w xeuugli x13faqbe x1vvkbs x1xmvt09 x1lliihq x1s928wv xhkezso x1gmr53x x1cpjm7i x1fgarty x1943h6x xudqn12 x3x7a5m x6prxxf xvq8zen xo1l8bm xzsf02u x1yc453h" dir="auto" style="color: var(--primary-text); display: block; line-height: 1.3333; max-width: 100%; min-width: 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; text-align: left; word-break: break-word;"><div class="xdj266r x11i5rnm xat24cr x1mh8g0r x1vvkbs x126k92a" style="margin: 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><p style="text-align: left;"></p><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: var(--primary-text);"><span style="font-family: inherit;">It is 3:47 as I sit now to write.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: var(--primary-text);"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: var(--primary-text);"><span style="font-family: inherit;">3:47 on Wednesday afternoon. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: var(--primary-text);"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: var(--primary-text);"><span style="font-family: inherit;">3:47 on the first day of spring.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: var(--primary-text);"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: var(--primary-text);"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The sun is bright, streaming through the windows. It's hit the crystal at just the right angle so rainbows dance up the walls and across the floor and ceiling. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: var(--primary-text);"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: var(--primary-text);"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Outside, if I listen carefully, I can hear the chirrup of birds at the feeder. Water-cooler chatter, no doubt.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: var(--primary-text);"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Here in the house, though, it is silent. Remarkably so.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: var(--primary-text);"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: var(--primary-text);"><span style="font-family: inherit;">A towel bundled into the crack where the door and floor meet, dulls the sound of the outside world. The phones are on mute. I've unplugged the refrigerator to silence its whirr and whine.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: var(--primary-text);"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: var(--primary-text);"><span style="font-family: inherit;">It is silent, and my boy is asleep.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: var(--primary-text);"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: var(--primary-text);"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Napping.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: var(--primary-text);"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: var(--primary-text);"><span style="font-family: inherit;">He had...a day... A hard day.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: var(--primary-text);"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: var(--primary-text);"><span style="font-family: inherit;">No particular reason.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: var(--primary-text);"><span style="font-family: inherit;">No particular cause.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: var(--primary-text);"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: var(--primary-text);"><span style="font-family: inherit;">A hundred reasons and a thousand causes.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: var(--primary-text);"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: var(--primary-text);"><span style="font-family: inherit;">But nothing that one could simply pinpoint and say "alright, let's remove that...let's prevent that". He was, simply, overwhelmed.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: var(--primary-text);"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: var(--primary-text);">There was a quiz grade posted. He took it personally. Not in the "offended" way, but in the personal way of "I am the failure that the grade represents". (The grade was not a failing one...not to you and I...but it wasn't an A, and therefore to him it was failure with a big red F...branded on his forehead.). </span><span style="color: var(--primary-text);">So he came home. Defeated. Overwhelmed. Self-loathing.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: var(--primary-text);"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: var(--primary-text);"><span style="font-family: inherit;">We made it up the driveway, his hand limp and hot in mine. We made it into the house and through the routine of after-school. We even made it through the conversation...the one where I remind him that "grades don't matter. effort matters. mistakes are how we learn." </span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: var(--primary-text);"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: var(--primary-text);"><span style="font-family: inherit;">And then I told him to take a nap. I bundled him up and turned off the refrigerator and muted the phones and blocked the door. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: var(--primary-text);"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: var(--primary-text);"><span style="font-family: inherit;">He protested. Nervous about homework. Stressed about the time. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: var(--primary-text);"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I held firm.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: var(--primary-text);"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Smoothed back the hair from his forehead. Gave him a kiss on the cheek and walked away.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: var(--primary-text);"><span style="font-family: inherit;">5 minutes later I snuck back in and he was asleep.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: var(--primary-text);"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: var(--primary-text);"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Soon enough, I'll have to wake him. Soon enough, he'll be back at the table and hunched over homework. Soon enough he'll be holding himself to impossibly high standards. Soon enough he'll be listening to some inner voice that tells him he isn't good enough.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: var(--primary-text);"><span style="font-family: inherit;">But for right now...</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: var(--primary-text);"><span style="font-family: inherit;">He's asleep.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: var(--primary-text);"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: var(--primary-text);"><span style="font-family: inherit;">And I can dream that he believes that he is the perfection I know him to be...</span></span></div><p></p></div></span></div></div></div></div></div><div style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"><div class="x168nmei x13lgxp2 x30kzoy x9jhf4c xx9tyur x6ikm8r x10wlt62" style="border-radius: 0px 0px 8px 8px; font-family: inherit; min-height: 12px; overflow: hidden;"><div class="x78zum5 xdj266r xq8finb xat24cr x16n37ib x1iorvi4 x4uap5 xjkvuk6 xkhd6sd" style="background-color: white; color: #1c1e21; display: flex; font-family: "Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; margin: 0px 12px; padding: 4px 0px; text-align: start;"><span class="x78zum5 x1iyjqo2 xl56j7k x8du52y x828ble xj0lthr x1w1xfga x1ieng3p x1lku1pv" style="display: flex; flex-grow: 1; font-family: inherit; justify-content: center;"><div aria-label="Send this to friends or post it on your profile." class="x1i10hfl x1qjc9v5 xjbqb8w xjqpnuy xa49m3k xqeqjp1 x2hbi6w x13fuv20 xu3j5b3 x1q0q8m5 x26u7qi x972fbf xcfux6l x1qhh985 xm0m39n x9f619 x1ypdohk xdl72j9 x2lah0s xe8uvvx xdj266r x11i5rnm xat24cr x1mh8g0r x2lwn1j xeuugli xexx8yu x4uap5 x18d9i69 xkhd6sd x1n2onr6 x16tdsg8 x1hl2dhg xggy1nq x1ja2u2z x1t137rt x1o1ewxj x3x9cwd x1e5q0jg x13rtm0m x1q0g3np x87ps6o x1lku1pv x78zum5 x1a2a7pz" role="button" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; align-items: stretch; background-color: transparent; border-bottom-color: var(--always-dark-overlay); border-left-color: var(--always-dark-overlay); border-radius: inherit; border-right-color: var(--always-dark-overlay); border-style: solid; border-top-color: var(--always-dark-overlay); border-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; cursor: pointer; display: flex; flex-basis: auto; flex-direction: row; flex-shrink: 0; font-family: inherit; list-style: none; margin: 0px; min-height: 0px; min-width: 0px; outline: none; padding: 0px; position: relative; text-align: inherit; touch-action: manipulation; user-select: none; z-index: 0;" tabindex="0"><div class="x6s0dn4 x78zum5 x10w6t97 x1h0ha7o xg83lxy x1n2onr6" style="align-items: center; display: flex; font-family: inherit; height: 32px; padding-left: 2px; padding-right: 2px; position: relative;"><div><br /></div></div></div></span></div><div class="x1pi30zi x1swvt13 x1n2onr6" style="background-color: white; color: #1c1e21; font-family: "Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; padding-left: 16px; padding-right: 16px; position: relative; text-align: start;"></div></div></div></div></span></div>Confessions of the Caffeinatedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02668985059078459859noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468720099351084079.post-67178449009702865112024-01-19T08:07:00.001-05:002024-01-19T08:07:05.492-05:00...28 (in days gone by)...<div style="text-align: center;"> <span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit; text-align: center;"> </span><i style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: large; text-align: center;"><u><b>In Days Gone By:<br /></b></u></i><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"> 19.<span>January.2021</span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span><br /></span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span><span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><div class="xdj266r x11i5rnm xat24cr x1mh8g0r x1vvkbs x126k92a" style="color: #050505; margin: 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; text-align: left; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><p style="text-align: center;">While the kitchen tile project was ongoing, I'd the chance to reorganize all the file folder storage that "lives" beneath one of our sideboards and came across paperwork dating back to before I was married. Tax docs, our marriage license and copies of checks to all the wedding vendors, my ex's student loan repayment receipts, multiple certified copies of the restraining order (now expired) against him, etc... Enclosed in one were childhood photos of him that I had carefully <a style="color: #385898; cursor: pointer;" tabindex="-1"></a>placed in an envelope for Johannes at least 15 years ago. So while Henri napped (praise!), Johannes and I briefly sat down and looked through the photos, before he decided to dispose of them. </p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">(As someone who takes a few photos (I kid, I kid) here and there, looking at these was...interesting...) </span></p><p style="text-align: center;"> There's promise~possibility~potential, in those sweet little shots of baby and toddler...in those early teen/peak of athleticism track shots...even in the student and work i.d. cards. But to see them now, it's naught but illusion...a sort-of "alternate reality".</p><p style="text-align: center;">He's been spiraling for years...a vicious cycle of peaks and valleys that damages everyone involved.</p><div style="text-align: center;"> From all accounts, he's been off his meds and is back to "self-medicating" with increasingly dangerous substance abuse.<br /><span style="font-family: inherit;">From all accounts, his grasp on reality is in the wind right now. <br /></span>From all accounts, his health is failing. It's terrible, and it's tragic, and it's...karmic? All that pain he's caused finding it's way back...</div><p style="text-align: center;">Tomorrow, his birthday...yet another year gone and nothing but wreckage to show for it. All the good advice and assistance and flat-out-doing-for-him-what-he-won't-do-for-himself by SO MANY people (myself included) just wasted effort. </p><p style="text-align: center;">And soon enough, a month away, Johannes turns 18. Despite his throwing away those photos and rejecting any "leftovers" (papers, photos, sentimental items), he'll carry this as part of his legacy his whole life. Nothing I have done, can do or want to do has ever erased the damage done by both action and inaction, threatening presence and dismissive absence. </p><p style="text-align: center;">If only it were as easy as tossing photos in the garbage, or shredding old files. If only it were as simple as shutting the door and ending the chapter.</p><p style="text-align: center;">But, you see...one chapter bleeds into the next. One door leads into another space. Everything gets carried on...</p></div></span></span></span></span></div>Confessions of the Caffeinatedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02668985059078459859noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468720099351084079.post-89173013296271525772024-01-16T08:52:00.002-05:002024-01-16T08:52:54.178-05:00...27 (in days gone by)...<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> <i style="font-size: large;"><u><b>In Days Gone By:<br /></b></u></i><span style="font-size: x-small;"> 16<span>.January.2019</span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span><br /></span></span><span style="color: #050505; text-align: left; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Two nights ago, after staring into the fridge and contemplating dinner prep, I declared it date night.<br /></span><span style="color: #050505; text-align: left; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Mami/J-Bug "date" night.<br /></span><span style="color: #050505; text-align: left; white-space-collapse: preserve;">(Yes, I know, he's more likely to take a Transformer out to see 'Bumblebee' than actually ask a girl out...err...yeah..that first thing...totally happened IRL already this past weekend.) </span></span></span></div><div class="x11i5rnm xat24cr x1mh8g0r x1vvkbs xtlvy1s x126k92a" style="color: #050505; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; text-align: left; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><p style="text-align: left;"></p><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;">We hit up the local mall for a window-shopping stroll, and a long non-stroll in the Lego store, before dinner. Light banter, school and peer related, kept things <a style="color: #385898; cursor: pointer;" tabindex="-1"></a>lively as J-Bug wittily described the cast and characters of his weekday life. This kid's got a way with words!</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;">By request (ok, maybe a little bit more demand than request!) we did serious damage to a trio of gluten-free crepes...hello Dulce de Leche...and giggled outrageously the whole while, much to the irritation of our dour, newspaper reading table-neighbor.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;">Then off we marched, answering the siren call of those massage chairs located at the other end of the mall. (There may have been a teeny tiny footrace involved...and I may have totally lost by not quite hurdling over a planter...but I'm not telling!) So there we sat, while the mechanics got "handsy" with us, and talked grand plans, silly schemes and all things Terminus Industries. Finally, wallet empty of singles and backs made of mush, we called it a night and headed back out into the frigid cold.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;">I thought to myself, as we headed home, of my newsfeed chock full of my 'Girl-Mom' friends and their shopping trips, hair appointments, mani-pedis...of all the photos that I see stream across my screen of all those precious Mother-Daughter moments.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;">I thought of them, and of this night and of my own contentment.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;">It's likely there will never be a little girl with my dark eyes and sharp tongue. It's likely that my dreams of more children will never come to fruition. And there's peace to be found in even that impossibility. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;">Because this...this life with this son...</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;">That "date" night with Legos and crepes and massage chairs...</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;">Totally. Perfect.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;">(*and let's be real...mani-pedis? for this control freak? ha! ain't no way I'm sitting down all zen-like while someone manhandles my fingers and toes! #nofomohere)</span></div><p style="background-color: white;"></p></div>Confessions of the Caffeinatedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02668985059078459859noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468720099351084079.post-85352758780864113492023-12-11T06:13:00.003-05:002023-12-11T06:13:25.850-05:00...26 (in days gone by)...<p style="text-align: center;"> <i style="font-size: large;"><u><b>In Days Gone By:</b></u></i><br /><span style="font-size: x-small;"> 11<span>.December.2016</span></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> <span style="background-color: white; color: #050505; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Quiet home.</span></span></p><div class="xdj266r x11i5rnm xat24cr x1mh8g0r x1vvkbs x126k92a" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; margin: 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; text-align: left; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><p></p><p style="height: 0px;"></p><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">J-bug is still asleep, his faithful companions Katja and Henry tucked up close. When he's fast asleep, I can so easily fall back in time and remember those days when he was so young and so tiny. All curled up and covered from toe to top, with just a sliver of face out to breathe, he looks no different to me now than when he was 5. And in these moments, I feel no different...no older...and certainly no wiser, than I did when he and I were young. </span></div><p></p><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">From where I'm </span><a style="color: #385898; cursor: pointer; font-family: inherit;" tabindex="-1"></a><span style="font-family: inherit;">sitting, I can see all the small things I've done to "holiday-ify" our postage stamp apartment. And I can see where his Transformers bleed into the decorations...a mini con left in front of the nativity, autobots and decepticons battling it out amidst my wooden christmas trees. </span></div><span style="font-family: inherit;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I'll clean them up later, I always do...</span></div></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">And they'll find their way back, they always do...</span></div></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Henry will show up in my chair right before I go to sit down. A dinobot will suddenly appear in front of my breakfast. </span></div></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">J-bug will clamber his way onto me, seeking sensory stimulation, all 145 pounds of him clawing his way into attention at the very moment I was going to start something else.</span></div></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">He's still asleep. We've missed church once again. I can't bear to wake him, he needs this rest...the demands of the week are exhasuting for him. And tomorrow, we'll be up by 4:30. </span></div></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">In the silence, my mind whirrs...creating and planning and backing up...forever trying to fill his day with joy, forever trying to anticipate every need. </span></div></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">My coffee's gone cold...again. I'll pop it in the microwave and burn the tip of my tongue on that first hot sip, then set it on the windowsill once more, forgotten. Back in the micro...once, twice, eventually I'll get it right.</span></div></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I worry, as I sit here, over all the things I can't control and all the things I can. I worry about the moments of failure today, when I answer too sharply or don't respond just right...when he needs me to listen and I don't even hear him...when he needs a friend or a father, but only has me. I worry that we should have already gotten a Christmas tree. I worry that he won't understand why Santa didn't bring him the 3d printer he's obsessed with. I worry that someone at his school full of upper middle class and higher will actually get a 3d printer for Christmas. </span></div></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">And I wait. Wait for him to wake up so the day can start. Wait, quietly reading, quietly typing... Wait. Quietly. As though I only turn on when he has need of me.</span></div></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">So he sleeps on.</span></div></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">My home is quiet.</span></div></span><div style="text-align: center;">x</div><p></p><p></p><p></p></div>Confessions of the Caffeinatedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02668985059078459859noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468720099351084079.post-37332663738834292432023-11-02T19:54:00.004-04:002023-11-02T19:54:53.449-04:00...halloween 2023: from Neverland...<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRtkPnNLD2VCPatJFACI9IZ-J7CF5LAlO1cx_8yig_RhFQf1wyHpG7c9xdUdNWvuyoWeAugwU8_4GvS6rTV_PTnVyzVmcddI2OI9muQ08e5pJRiQpZ5iPT76CtyD7ZkUETmZARzUiNi9jdJK03m5PJ2HbPVbiEpMlim-SwRZ12Vjz5sSvGYCubslucL6c/s1708/IMG_4833.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1708" data-original-width="1643" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRtkPnNLD2VCPatJFACI9IZ-J7CF5LAlO1cx_8yig_RhFQf1wyHpG7c9xdUdNWvuyoWeAugwU8_4GvS6rTV_PTnVyzVmcddI2OI9muQ08e5pJRiQpZ5iPT76CtyD7ZkUETmZARzUiNi9jdJK03m5PJ2HbPVbiEpMlim-SwRZ12Vjz5sSvGYCubslucL6c/s320/IMG_4833.JPG" width="308" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #1c1d1f; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">"But mother, I don't want to grow up.”</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #1c1d1f; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoDlz2LEsSV3KivBREb9A8o6bXZLSTCQ8kk_GWz0_cpKD7bx1HS2ImxHZahwcCyke5bRf8TsxrXo0sRsMJKn1wmnEgAW3h53ssF3q_lmplGuCyvLyYpcC93T_nzO1O1RuRQfjehIAtjR658oHstXUKLIXfH6z3bPdjmdNbKJ_tuV9sjH_5XQSrAO-wQ10/s1733/IMG_4842.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1733" data-original-width="1697" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoDlz2LEsSV3KivBREb9A8o6bXZLSTCQ8kk_GWz0_cpKD7bx1HS2ImxHZahwcCyke5bRf8TsxrXo0sRsMJKn1wmnEgAW3h53ssF3q_lmplGuCyvLyYpcC93T_nzO1O1RuRQfjehIAtjR658oHstXUKLIXfH6z3bPdjmdNbKJ_tuV9sjH_5XQSrAO-wQ10/s320/IMG_4842.JPG" width="313" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #1c1d1f; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> "You know, you look exactly the way I thought you would.</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #1c1d1f; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">A little taller perhaps.”</span></span></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-8RAeKoDllopo_aAyvUM-Y5OBF_8mqEBJFXINn0p4QNQ9otiMPnJEgzx-WDyfAt2VL69pghweMjmdA4Iq7XQIQ-ZlucQDnopbNpYOEyoCipvuGbSU-15NLtsVyIla6rItU_QC4GE9SC94jmVbgiopw-snOCmTueSG1cFIpm-a_v3CbOp5h88HrTfjeUE/s1914/IMG_4845.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1683" data-original-width="1914" height="281" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-8RAeKoDllopo_aAyvUM-Y5OBF_8mqEBJFXINn0p4QNQ9otiMPnJEgzx-WDyfAt2VL69pghweMjmdA4Iq7XQIQ-ZlucQDnopbNpYOEyoCipvuGbSU-15NLtsVyIla6rItU_QC4GE9SC94jmVbgiopw-snOCmTueSG1cFIpm-a_v3CbOp5h88HrTfjeUE/s320/IMG_4845.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: #333333; text-align: start;">“It is not in doing what you like,</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: #333333; text-align: start;">but in liking what you do that is the secret of </span>happiness<span style="color: #333333; text-align: start;">.”</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE7weypIheHpEsKtyp75-fj7sILQZbEe5Zng_rCO6F6INYN6xha8HJ9e7ZRdE4mz5fW4_QQiEJasjjBJCLlK68EUoy_DzcrBpPTuC46RQ4ADr2a5WUbFUwYpBuclfk05LOkc2dSNJqTA1jTssiw7WYUprO3kDQTuBxKRu43OS7ks9mKxEynpKjHbMMyrs/s1910/IMG_4852.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1698" data-original-width="1910" height="284" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE7weypIheHpEsKtyp75-fj7sILQZbEe5Zng_rCO6F6INYN6xha8HJ9e7ZRdE4mz5fW4_QQiEJasjjBJCLlK68EUoy_DzcrBpPTuC46RQ4ADr2a5WUbFUwYpBuclfk05LOkc2dSNJqTA1jTssiw7WYUprO3kDQTuBxKRu43OS7ks9mKxEynpKjHbMMyrs/s320/IMG_4852.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #1c1d1f; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">“Now, think of the happiest things.</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #1c1d1f; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">It's the same as having wings!”</span></span></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQID64qgPS9kLVwmcDnnFlNrgRo4GerNJcnnF7xKNNrTTyLJM5lBQJ5GJ6Yy_PFLYcz_N9Dy9EmdlzEhMZUyyJ2aLoC4dTZYcvNS_kaDmR5ZMyrRxjadz4n4P3SXv8SaCAltUUx0RpWzc3onIE7Z4r0pHwQZlMXRp5hmCl1ATOYeaKaVA1HKRysLoJwnc/s1936/IMG_4861.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1936" data-original-width="1936" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQID64qgPS9kLVwmcDnnFlNrgRo4GerNJcnnF7xKNNrTTyLJM5lBQJ5GJ6Yy_PFLYcz_N9Dy9EmdlzEhMZUyyJ2aLoC4dTZYcvNS_kaDmR5ZMyrRxjadz4n4P3SXv8SaCAltUUx0RpWzc3onIE7Z4r0pHwQZlMXRp5hmCl1ATOYeaKaVA1HKRysLoJwnc/s320/IMG_4861.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #1c1d1f; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">“Oh, but, mother, it was a such a wonderful adventure!”</span></span></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRYV8RsWmfeNCCw8EWRsqCLBKZlBRCfViS8q6QfLZEidtGDaPqrmijcDobZQAmDuXQpuUFadW5-Z0MFm_fzeyyoL845RBDvz4Qjv5eyNYIjRVN30M9E1dNhGEme8-tHJFEqk6P7QokIt4e3Y1VSwY8Zok4aRtVP7S2UFkzwYPgP3kuWt7awZMOhv_1BK8/s1743/IMG_4863.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1743" data-original-width="1691" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRYV8RsWmfeNCCw8EWRsqCLBKZlBRCfViS8q6QfLZEidtGDaPqrmijcDobZQAmDuXQpuUFadW5-Z0MFm_fzeyyoL845RBDvz4Qjv5eyNYIjRVN30M9E1dNhGEme8-tHJFEqk6P7QokIt4e3Y1VSwY8Zok4aRtVP7S2UFkzwYPgP3kuWt7awZMOhv_1BK8/s320/IMG_4863.JPG" width="310" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: proxima-nova, sans-serif; font-size: 19.2px; text-align: start;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">“It is the nightly custom of every good mother</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">after her children are asleep to rummage in their minds</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">and put things straight for the next morning,</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">repacking into their proper places the</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">many articles that have wandered during the day.”</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaBYdTmGEr65clQoPmLD9XwqScDVjdvKz9GCtUki9lILsVD_hFY_khRTdJYTr7Hy0kAB1rsUg72_iaVMDRqjiHopMmK0mYVm-NEyLpx_5YM_XzbW_gNAY2yk7466CFc1vxuJI1jx74mkgbCLsuFn8eFADDTS-zBl1xtaBOOrsysnM8SR5sY7zTjXQKss4/s1761/IMG_4768.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1669" data-original-width="1761" height="303" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaBYdTmGEr65clQoPmLD9XwqScDVjdvKz9GCtUki9lILsVD_hFY_khRTdJYTr7Hy0kAB1rsUg72_iaVMDRqjiHopMmK0mYVm-NEyLpx_5YM_XzbW_gNAY2yk7466CFc1vxuJI1jx74mkgbCLsuFn8eFADDTS-zBl1xtaBOOrsysnM8SR5sY7zTjXQKss4/s320/IMG_4768.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; text-align: center; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Wendy: "But what were you doing there?"</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; text-align: center; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Peter: " I came to listen to your stories. "</span></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; text-align: center; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Wendy: "My stories? But they're all about you!" </span></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; text-align: center; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Peter: "I know! That's why I like 'em!"</span></div></div><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiUidgT3MhD4dsKa75UAAmt5-R6P8eMRXFaJyfMX-eFZ4X3PG6c23UQfW3xKMa49eDf7ecmeJdbARmLf_OSlBOVzKhjB6e-iLaaSLqZcWMZzikxuaWGk0hxnHfdk_UVYoPh55ssmphvbQeye3G5jNTfTDA1q7tmosrJrzg8UWwzN5-kM1DOM8Sqxe6ehc/s1640/IMG_4996.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1640" data-original-width="1579" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiUidgT3MhD4dsKa75UAAmt5-R6P8eMRXFaJyfMX-eFZ4X3PG6c23UQfW3xKMa49eDf7ecmeJdbARmLf_OSlBOVzKhjB6e-iLaaSLqZcWMZzikxuaWGk0hxnHfdk_UVYoPh55ssmphvbQeye3G5jNTfTDA1q7tmosrJrzg8UWwzN5-kM1DOM8Sqxe6ehc/s320/IMG_4996.JPG" width="308" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #050505; text-align: start; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">"I'm Youth! I'm Joy!"</span></span></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTpef7OH7pnUlGSpPqqaWaD9dAXWMIALeesHiTY8oxVLWbvgAbH8D9b16WaRDiLYgOOmMopSEZoSwccfSt88ZkK4pE3YHjG7k6G49Snn7A6vCt6vkl09DG5BjzGrZRXt2cVZ9T3-VS6PR8ELX55iyccCNUA16aL_Y4lDnzIGS7xBpWTfupdNcbNqWRnYU/s1547/IMG_5019.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1547" data-original-width="1257" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTpef7OH7pnUlGSpPqqaWaD9dAXWMIALeesHiTY8oxVLWbvgAbH8D9b16WaRDiLYgOOmMopSEZoSwccfSt88ZkK4pE3YHjG7k6G49Snn7A6vCt6vkl09DG5BjzGrZRXt2cVZ9T3-VS6PR8ELX55iyccCNUA16aL_Y4lDnzIGS7xBpWTfupdNcbNqWRnYU/s320/IMG_5019.JPG" width="260" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #050505; text-align: start; white-space-collapse: preserve;">"Oh, </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #050505; text-align: start; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><a style="color: #385898; cursor: pointer;" tabindex="-1"></a></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #050505; text-align: start; white-space-collapse: preserve;">the cleverness of me!"</span></span></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDEb_egv9fJHykigkS6yT0QGcmwYzxTYitgAM3RyYJSZKA_nGwzjq_rwJoWTWwiWUr1EZwjP-K8MD0BGRyjJnzadPgSP7gEtBnKkHMkqcpFkagNA_6CnfVxI7XzUUmBQj5MF-ct7qWgeTqX7WyXybEu-F6JWzxHqNgwU_n7bb5VpJc_z1vgpjrqO0yK_4/s1936/IMG_5024.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1471" data-original-width="1936" height="243" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDEb_egv9fJHykigkS6yT0QGcmwYzxTYitgAM3RyYJSZKA_nGwzjq_rwJoWTWwiWUr1EZwjP-K8MD0BGRyjJnzadPgSP7gEtBnKkHMkqcpFkagNA_6CnfVxI7XzUUmBQj5MF-ct7qWgeTqX7WyXybEu-F6JWzxHqNgwU_n7bb5VpJc_z1vgpjrqO0yK_4/s320/IMG_5024.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">“Children have the strangest adventures without being troubled by them."</span></span></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsOqzl36I2JQN5LIGqRd4MEZ7RFDjp47ktDn2LcLvf0sNagWx9U_e0cP4aRVbL6owCE6G1yldJuMbt5Y0xzywJF2piiAujcdXWey4_yqSyTX4ZDvVyJj6VRK2v0JlZ4VEqHiJhDZSg-8p6Raqk6E9ILXmdJtNmX93WNV42O_dDAr5R65hyphenhyphenL3Oak0v2b50/s1565/IMG_5090.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1312" data-original-width="1565" height="268" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsOqzl36I2JQN5LIGqRd4MEZ7RFDjp47ktDn2LcLvf0sNagWx9U_e0cP4aRVbL6owCE6G1yldJuMbt5Y0xzywJF2piiAujcdXWey4_yqSyTX4ZDvVyJj6VRK2v0JlZ4VEqHiJhDZSg-8p6Raqk6E9ILXmdJtNmX93WNV42O_dDAr5R65hyphenhyphenL3Oak0v2b50/s320/IMG_5090.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #1c1d1f; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">“I'm so happy, I think I'll give you a kiss.”</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmAjMcxJ-DQg-s_No6MukLZAoCJZa3AHjYcV9Y8JPEO2T-LVrRMpnZlj3qNMyj9-dScj8VJPq4rRkE8faf7oBFMQou9CKGkejOFFGW96-zAHVYdCgG3veLqkwzn9CEwxVM0TRrZa_iI2c2xXar-U6weM6ZPvpf80I_SSgHQUafu_WphsRuRlb2kAyHuHI/s1540/IMG_4882.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1540" data-original-width="1480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmAjMcxJ-DQg-s_No6MukLZAoCJZa3AHjYcV9Y8JPEO2T-LVrRMpnZlj3qNMyj9-dScj8VJPq4rRkE8faf7oBFMQou9CKGkejOFFGW96-zAHVYdCgG3veLqkwzn9CEwxVM0TRrZa_iI2c2xXar-U6weM6ZPvpf80I_SSgHQUafu_WphsRuRlb2kAyHuHI/s320/IMG_4882.JPG" width="308" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #1c1d1f; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">“After all, one can’t leave his shadow lying about</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #1c1d1f; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">and not miss it sooner or later, don’t you agree?”</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYxE0MCHmFXMH7EY_HVdo9WdIpX-Ut3dsOLhKBlHpX3xYcBEBXWjTCRKFwV3tE23ARBMrN9lqDTUf_jFPYNJDYfW0tbTSSKvYUGzo1GQ8GW4hlGrdIDHeTYplrKHsYHHgtHh872fstzjwQZ5o6AzeT9t97mjUPiMFUvup0qoL8uhZ-gfDzL7RACgxQ_C4/s1713/IMG_4952.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1453" data-original-width="1713" height="271" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYxE0MCHmFXMH7EY_HVdo9WdIpX-Ut3dsOLhKBlHpX3xYcBEBXWjTCRKFwV3tE23ARBMrN9lqDTUf_jFPYNJDYfW0tbTSSKvYUGzo1GQ8GW4hlGrdIDHeTYplrKHsYHHgtHh872fstzjwQZ5o6AzeT9t97mjUPiMFUvup0qoL8uhZ-gfDzL7RACgxQ_C4/s320/IMG_4952.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #1c1d1f; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">“Stop playing and help me find my shadow!</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #1c1d1f; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Shadow … shadow …”</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #1c1d1f; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-2a9wgug4GVu0HhxMOMXfx_PlbSfYYoG5IncrAL1S2LoBYHOy1ijWzb5E8knyYXKBg-NHFijqMIM9VfKXdjIRd1eVD1vdbGMshqQNOnN40kS9zznbAMyUL8Oa0A8EPjfpsq2TkQqIxEguRk2j1VCbMTGDXkJjyPWhoNNDLIEXvgUbK_zBP2y_tkHISg8/s1376/IMG_4719.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1376" data-original-width="723" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-2a9wgug4GVu0HhxMOMXfx_PlbSfYYoG5IncrAL1S2LoBYHOy1ijWzb5E8knyYXKBg-NHFijqMIM9VfKXdjIRd1eVD1vdbGMshqQNOnN40kS9zznbAMyUL8Oa0A8EPjfpsq2TkQqIxEguRk2j1VCbMTGDXkJjyPWhoNNDLIEXvgUbK_zBP2y_tkHISg8/s320/IMG_4719.JPG" width="168" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">“Just always be waiting for me.”</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg84dzqD8N7dDscLUDlB6582djIZj7qNAfbEC9TgSoho4o0ZhZounxfMM3wPFuCFw8G82WA79oaSPRoc9ZaoPP0EkdfUz1yk84zu5htLm2frAtvpRD8nTjsz64hp9irnRiU6I_6XFkyjbsRINyOC3wEXLVqkKzywoYBqxlULebr2g7fjv6bdTRf7HZRzWk/s3448/20231101_113504.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3448" data-original-width="2277" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg84dzqD8N7dDscLUDlB6582djIZj7qNAfbEC9TgSoho4o0ZhZounxfMM3wPFuCFw8G82WA79oaSPRoc9ZaoPP0EkdfUz1yk84zu5htLm2frAtvpRD8nTjsz64hp9irnRiU6I_6XFkyjbsRINyOC3wEXLVqkKzywoYBqxlULebr2g7fjv6bdTRf7HZRzWk/s320/20231101_113504.jpg" width="211" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: proxima-nova, sans-serif; font-size: 19.2px; text-align: start;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">“All of this has happened before,</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">and it will all happen again.”</span></span></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE1S2m98MNMmiqh326Hg9EV2irj_hyZ2j2v-Iy_eXtNTY50k8g_gMCFKUQwMDbQ-QahcrbUTYuMhOpIjrhqD87elko4vPU-1wM8ahcBAy5eBzzUAO0s1dM3Ng5PiXIIItYwGqLskHY-41p3J7O4LidIywKGtRSB6-K_oSlRoxiJABPIxOJPcx1F1g47Rk/s1884/20231101_113728.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1884" data-original-width="1587" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE1S2m98MNMmiqh326Hg9EV2irj_hyZ2j2v-Iy_eXtNTY50k8g_gMCFKUQwMDbQ-QahcrbUTYuMhOpIjrhqD87elko4vPU-1wM8ahcBAy5eBzzUAO0s1dM3Ng5PiXIIItYwGqLskHY-41p3J7O4LidIywKGtRSB6-K_oSlRoxiJABPIxOJPcx1F1g47Rk/s320/20231101_113728.jpg" width="270" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #1c1d1f; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">“Well, a mother, a real mother,</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #1c1d1f; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">is the most wonderful person in the world.</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #1c1d1f; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">She's the angel voice that bids you goodnight,</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #1c1d1f; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">kisses your cheek, whispers ‘sleep tight.’”</span></span></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg28qEl7OGQJ6VTqO9HHupO5w-5dg9O-2LmEt-si2zUjkKQhPKme7rG-0IZWF0tPIa1SzX5FgYYuoOksFlbGBepT15kAhB-eZG5DXFHaXKNtJcq3dI1vqDQxp4L9JjKBBxXUME8fHWb7Ai25Q06SKPSpC0ASMQVqTO7Km1Ntw8Y4nw-xj7FJypt-iFqlng/s8160/20231101_111723.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="8160" data-original-width="6120" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg28qEl7OGQJ6VTqO9HHupO5w-5dg9O-2LmEt-si2zUjkKQhPKme7rG-0IZWF0tPIa1SzX5FgYYuoOksFlbGBepT15kAhB-eZG5DXFHaXKNtJcq3dI1vqDQxp4L9JjKBBxXUME8fHWb7Ai25Q06SKPSpC0ASMQVqTO7Km1Ntw8Y4nw-xj7FJypt-iFqlng/s320/20231101_111723.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #1c1d1f; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">“Go on!</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #1c1d1f; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Go back and grow up!</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #1c1d1f; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">But I’m warning you,</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #1c1d1f; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">once you’re grown up you can never come back.”</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p></p>Confessions of the Caffeinatedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02668985059078459859noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468720099351084079.post-17537481949423400442023-10-31T06:05:00.001-04:002023-11-01T09:52:32.117-04:00...shareables...<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjinTuRfmoLlhzDUCZUP3njXOKdwYNE6bZieVZVCpvnP9Cyt4S2jRkHJJ4M2hDbeagJK-6z-Rp_Isi29VJhWFTRsuKnEd69tPG0VlP5fMSaHeMSTlHrW_Y8LzdivV2Ovw5JloRgXL1tjGf1tb7IKq5kvhzHKE9k-ucF9UsWbi7KherSXvTjZYD3IFY2v4w/s1080/Happy.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjinTuRfmoLlhzDUCZUP3njXOKdwYNE6bZieVZVCpvnP9Cyt4S2jRkHJJ4M2hDbeagJK-6z-Rp_Isi29VJhWFTRsuKnEd69tPG0VlP5fMSaHeMSTlHrW_Y8LzdivV2Ovw5JloRgXL1tjGf1tb7IKq5kvhzHKE9k-ucF9UsWbi7KherSXvTjZYD3IFY2v4w/s320/Happy.png" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Just a quick pop-in from over here at Crafter's Chaos,</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">where last minute Costume Catastrophes</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">have this mami running around like a headless chicken!<br /><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Over on the margin, you'll find that the "shareables" have been updated with this year's</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">"Spooky Poem Lunchnotes" </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">(the step-children edition!)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">so give it a look and be inspired!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Hope you are all enjoying your Halloween festivities, and that the weather complies with Us All for a frightfully fantastic night of Trick-or-Treating!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /> <p></p>Confessions of the Caffeinatedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02668985059078459859noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468720099351084079.post-46874908903106749372023-10-31T06:00:00.002-04:002023-11-01T09:48:09.457-04:00...Happy Halloween...<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkZxkPYruGEb5aRf61vGDswoNLkVXjetuPYqUJIU4tT7MZwEW9mZ9VbGXD2_JD4nHpX7yCE0asyu7PbCl4q1wAh8KhwiQI5NnB4PvAl1BXwLvpKPt5Ig3yOb4Kk_XgEv2jdfiLHA1x1c_86lyPg0-MSk9r2AOpv8wj0QjSWtQfSSNLMwskbNf_uI1aId8/s1080/Happy.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkZxkPYruGEb5aRf61vGDswoNLkVXjetuPYqUJIU4tT7MZwEW9mZ9VbGXD2_JD4nHpX7yCE0asyu7PbCl4q1wAh8KhwiQI5NnB4PvAl1BXwLvpKPt5Ig3yOb4Kk_XgEv2jdfiLHA1x1c_86lyPg0-MSk9r2AOpv8wj0QjSWtQfSSNLMwskbNf_uI1aId8/w400-h400/Happy.png" width="400" /></a></div><br /> <p></p>Confessions of the Caffeinatedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02668985059078459859noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468720099351084079.post-90622543399744896082023-10-09T09:26:00.001-04:002023-10-09T09:26:44.377-04:00...a day to reflect and honor: Indigenous Peoples' Day...<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #050505; text-align: start; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><span style="font-family: Dancing Script; font-size: x-large;"><b>Remembrance, reflection, and recognition</b></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #050505; text-align: start; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><span style="font-family: Dancing Script; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs2MXOWYfY1DnsSMkfO4Vjewgs5Mmb5mQ5Wg1CbTxXMItv1vfep-w4fSJ5jL8F2QtQxHAKlipi5P_gqlXoyzxY-dQyUzMN-9dNsi-uD0-EkWhDgg2GJckq23vu1_w2OyzZj05MT6OHmbyxQZ1Fvjj0EMC6hHdc5twTGfkEBnHcG_9S2qTQDnp2Zn_otbo/s1080/382350732_801689741963724_960856239805544396_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs2MXOWYfY1DnsSMkfO4Vjewgs5Mmb5mQ5Wg1CbTxXMItv1vfep-w4fSJ5jL8F2QtQxHAKlipi5P_gqlXoyzxY-dQyUzMN-9dNsi-uD0-EkWhDgg2GJckq23vu1_w2OyzZj05MT6OHmbyxQZ1Fvjj0EMC6hHdc5twTGfkEBnHcG_9S2qTQDnp2Zn_otbo/w400-h400/382350732_801689741963724_960856239805544396_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /> <p></p>Confessions of the Caffeinatedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02668985059078459859noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468720099351084079.post-58399651196996004502023-10-08T08:40:00.009-04:002023-10-08T08:40:51.165-04:00...25 (in days gone by)...<p style="text-align: center;"> <i style="font-size: large;"><u><b>In Days Gone By:</b></u></i><br /> 8<span style="font-size: x-small;">.October.2022</span></p><div class="xdj266r x11i5rnm xat24cr x1mh8g0r x1vvkbs x126k92a" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; margin: 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><p style="text-align: left;"></p><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Tap tap tap.</span></div><span style="font-family: inherit;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Fingers on keyboards.</span></div></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Across the table.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Am reminded, just now, of sitting across the table from Johannes (a different table, with different tech) as he worked on homework and I worked on work (editing) in companionable silence. Chat windows popping up on both screens occasionally, as we politely interrupted one another. The scent of herbal tea steaming into the air around us.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Now </span><a style="color: #385898; cursor: pointer; font-family: inherit;" tabindex="-1"></a><span style="font-family: inherit;">we work in silence, together.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Both logged into the same doc.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">His cursor kicking mine out of the way.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Occasionally, one or the other of us breaks the silence to "read aloud" (the best editing tool!) and we stop to take a sip and crack those finger joints. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">This.</span></div></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">More than I knew to hope for.</span></div></span><p></p></div><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"></span></p><div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>Confessions of the Caffeinatedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02668985059078459859noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468720099351084079.post-45114919801352680572023-10-03T15:47:00.004-04:002023-10-03T15:47:36.435-04:00...October : The List...<p></p><div style="text-align: center;">Rain, rain, go away...and take September with you!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">We're a few gorgeous days into October and thank goodness for that!</div><div style="text-align: center;">Delayed by rain...then illness...we're finally getting back in the game.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">The month ahead is already filling up with 'big things' that must be done,</div><div style="text-align: center;">so, I'm all the more eager to find little pockets of fun and adventure.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Mid-month, we'll be heading out on the road for a long car trip to Ohio. It's a trip fraught with emotion, even this far in advance. A goodbye, and a hello, and a...'oh, I remember you' all wrapped up in one. And it will be Henri's first long car trip...so, I've planning to do for sufficient breaks.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Homeschooling has been chewing up the majority of my time...if I'm not actively in teacher-mode, then I'm trying to create resources and recycle thrift finds into unit-themed activities. Henri is flourishing in these early days and for as often as I may feel defeated by the things that went undone, I am buoyed right back up by his love for learning and challenge.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">You'll note the final item... So long overdue...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2ktOnKW30GxiYOnwPZpXgGRhJMtB2vsiGC2eCafE73ZDp6CdxWMhz1OZi4nI9J4mWLsSi8jUxUkIy2C3KAaipnZMsjwWc5JXgFESneTECanQguH0ezFr1QPx0vJaDZDW6ZUM5tOEAZ-22bOg75Hwq4Kb0ZCLMRPWKOtw4P9qS9_DhF3W24HgxOWbugTQ/s768/Screenshot%20(541).png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="598" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2ktOnKW30GxiYOnwPZpXgGRhJMtB2vsiGC2eCafE73ZDp6CdxWMhz1OZi4nI9J4mWLsSi8jUxUkIy2C3KAaipnZMsjwWc5JXgFESneTECanQguH0ezFr1QPx0vJaDZDW6ZUM5tOEAZ-22bOg75Hwq4Kb0ZCLMRPWKOtw4P9qS9_DhF3W24HgxOWbugTQ/w498-h640/Screenshot%20(541).png" width="498" /></a></div><br /><p></p>Confessions of the Caffeinatedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02668985059078459859noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468720099351084079.post-79862451676640475742023-10-01T06:00:00.001-04:002023-10-03T10:12:54.132-04:00...october plans...<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3eYIzE4DTBSUYE-Y3AkJ-foVQ6yYnvcSce2_u3lqOj_ejHNpBSPTaXAGV0Yn_d-jbkKpv5OQwL72gdsmAeQjgqDe-pxPFp6owswdJbgSNuRC5wjArY_R4IeX-58nZ9PHRGuA9hWk3tMGzWKFMs2Gj4jxf81I0-ESlnVB-SrZl7c-e3kYQeeOaT_CTTw8/s2000/October%20Mood%20Board%202023.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="2000" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3eYIzE4DTBSUYE-Y3AkJ-foVQ6yYnvcSce2_u3lqOj_ejHNpBSPTaXAGV0Yn_d-jbkKpv5OQwL72gdsmAeQjgqDe-pxPFp6owswdJbgSNuRC5wjArY_R4IeX-58nZ9PHRGuA9hWk3tMGzWKFMs2Gj4jxf81I0-ESlnVB-SrZl7c-e3kYQeeOaT_CTTw8/w400-h320/October%20Mood%20Board%202023.png" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p></p>Confessions of the Caffeinatedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02668985059078459859noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468720099351084079.post-19942861723544421542023-09-29T07:23:00.006-04:002023-09-29T07:29:52.252-04:00...24 (in days gone by)...<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i><u><b>In Days Gone By:<br /></b></u></i></span><div style="text-align: center;"> <span style="font-size: x-small;">29.September.2018</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">Swing in our doorway any evening and you might find J-bug on the cello or keyboard. You might find him sanding down prototypes or making resin molds or painting his custom creations. You might even find him drying the dishes...ha!</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">But, more likely than not, you'll find him in "his corner". </span><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;">Ensconced in his chair in the corner of the livingroom, tea mug close at hand steaming into the lamplight. He'll be hunched over his laptop, earbuds dangling, frantically typing away <a style="color: #385898; cursor: pointer;" tabindex="-1"></a>with a crease in his brow.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">He has...thoughts. Big ones. Little ones. Thoughts that "must come out"!</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">Last night on our way in to my work, we stopped by T.J. Maxx (as we do) where he waited on a bench while I tried a few things on. He refused to try on the shirts he had found. Fine. No problem. I eyeballed them and acquiesced. At any rate, I dashed in and dashed out, handing over my discards to the fitting room attendant and retrieving my bench-warmer.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">"You okay?", I asked.</span><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;">"Yup." Small grin. "I was thinking. Most of the time. And then I figured it out."</span><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;">"Figured what out?", I asked.</span><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;">"Well, I was thinking about God. And Science. And then I figured out the Science behind God. I found a way to scientifically proved that God exists."</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">Me. Stopped...mid-stride.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"> "So...how's that work?"</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: x-small;"><b>*less than five minutes, peeps...</b></span><br /><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: x-small;"><b>less than three minutes more likely in the fitting room,</b></span><br /><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: x-small;"><b>and this is what I come back out to?!?*</b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: x-small;"><b><br /></b></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">"Well, I have to type it out.", he says.</span><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;">"What do you mean? Explain it.", I respond.</span><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;">"No", he says. "No, I can't just talk it out. I have to write it down. I can't organize it right in spoken words, not even to you."</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">So when we came home, I made the tea and he typed his thoughts. I prepped dinner, and his fingers dance across the keyboard at lightning speed. I rang the dinner bell (yes, literal bell. Tiny little silver bell I keep on the top shelf.) and he shook his head. A few more clicks, then done. </span><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;">My phone chimed. An email alert. I swiped down and saw it was from him.</span><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;">Invitation to edit in Google Docs.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">This. Is. My. Life.</span><br /><span color="var(--primary-text)" style="font-family: inherit; white-space-collapse: preserve;">This is </span><span style="text-align: left; white-space-collapse: preserve;">normal.<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">He communicates with me via Google Docs.</span><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;">Sharing ideas and thoughts and hypotheses.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">The email came with a caveat: "I don't have time to write it all out...this is my outline, Mami. What do you think? I'm hungry!"</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">~~~</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">"We all believe in some version of how humans came to be . . . but what if all of them were accurate?</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"> Science tells us that homo sapiens came about as an evolutionary adaptation. Religion tells us that humans were based in God’s image.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;">But let’s start somewhere else. There is a common urban myth that humans use 10% of their brain. This isn’t entirely true, seeing as the human brain is involuntarily used for different things such as music and emotions. Still, though, we only use a fraction of our brains consciously. What if we were able to willingly use more of it? The idea of utilizing an advanced level of intelligence and general understanding has always had its appeal to many, but in reality, it seems fictional. However, there have been examples of more usage, such as unexplained phenomena during medical testing, or major intuition, or even just that extended sense of deja vu, where you perfectly predict what someone will say or do.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">Let’s take a look at another interesting fact. Astronauts have proven that your location can affect your age. A person in space will not age as fast as the person on earth, thus proving gravity affects time. And what is gravity, but waves created by miniscule vibrations in matter?</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">String Theory. That well-founded idea (that still has not been disproven) suggesting that the smallest particles are merely super-symmetrical vibrations forming patterns to create larger particles, which in turn form atoms. This by extension also suggests that all matter (and some forms of energy) gives off a gravitational field based upon the mass and size of the object at hand. Hence why there is practically no pull between humans, but there is one between planets.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">Quantum-Based Temporal Manipulation Theory, by yours truly. This idea I came up with, suggest that if one could manipulate the quantum particles, they could manipulate time itself to a degree. </span><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;"> Let’s get back to that idea of using one’s brain. If we were conscious of our own abilities, then we would be able to manipulate time and matter. What if God was human but simply had a full level of consciousness? Theoretically, he could have been an early human, not homo sapien, and forced the evolution of the homo sapiens. Given humans are social beings, that would also explain his understanding people. This is just some food for thought. A feast if you will...</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"></span><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;">This is what happens when I have free-time. I need more coffee now..."</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">~~~</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">Oh yes, people. This is my life. Isn't it awesome? </span><br /><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small; font-weight: normal;">~One super lucky Mami</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>(This was Johannes, at 15)</i></span></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>Confessions of the Caffeinatedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02668985059078459859noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468720099351084079.post-58725141582471197112023-09-19T08:38:00.001-04:002023-09-19T08:38:13.786-04:00...23 (in days gone by)...<p style="text-align: center;"><i><u><span style="font-size: medium;"> In Days Gone By:</span></u></i><br /><span style="font-size: x-small;">19. September.2017</span></p><div class="xdj266r x11i5rnm xat24cr x1mh8g0r x1vvkbs x126k92a" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; margin: 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Homework, oh homework, </span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I loathe you. It's true!</span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">You've ruined my life, and my family too!</span></div></div><div class="x11i5rnm xat24cr x1mh8g0r x1vvkbs xtlvy1s x126k92a" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">You stretch on for hours, </span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">all <a style="color: #385898; cursor: pointer;" tabindex="-1"></a>day and all night, </span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">with the pressure to get all your damn answers right.</span></div></div><div class="x11i5rnm xat24cr x1mh8g0r x1vvkbs xtlvy1s x126k92a" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">He's frazzled and frustrated, </span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Dazed and confused, </span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">It's only week two and we're less than enthused.</span></div></div><div class="x11i5rnm xat24cr x1mh8g0r x1vvkbs xtlvy1s x126k92a" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Your "busy work" sessions, </span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">so unnecessary, </span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">do nothing to teach, but make everything messy.</span></div></div><div class="x11i5rnm xat24cr x1mh8g0r x1vvkbs xtlvy1s x126k92a" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">He's already floundering,</span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">exhausted and stressed, </span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">and really you won't help him ace his next test.</span></div></div><div class="x11i5rnm xat24cr x1mh8g0r x1vvkbs xtlvy1s x126k92a" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">If anything, you'll hinder </span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">his curious mind, </span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">and dull his intellect in the daily grind.</span></div></div><div class="x11i5rnm xat24cr x1mh8g0r x1vvkbs xtlvy1s x126k92a" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">So homework, I beg you, </span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">go **** off and die.</span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">You've stayed far too long. Just leave now. Goodbye.</span></div></div>Confessions of the Caffeinatedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02668985059078459859noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468720099351084079.post-42936630755211951002023-09-19T08:34:00.002-04:002023-09-19T08:34:35.435-04:00...22 (in days gone by)...<div style="text-align: center;"><i><u><span style="font-size: medium;">In Days Gone By:<br /></span></u></i><span style="font-size: x-small;">19. September.2017</span></div><div class="xdj266r x11i5rnm xat24cr x1mh8g0r x1vvkbs x126k92a" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; margin: 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><p style="text-align: left;"></p><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Just when you're ready to throw in the towel...</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> Lately I've been wrestling with my commitment to the organization I run. Let's be real-it's been one heck of an uphill battle. Just when one piece finally falls into place, at least four more drop off. Every. Single. Time. Fix one problem, another crops up. Set things in motion, only to fall flat. Or, better yet, ask for assistance and get NO'd to death. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> I put countless hours into answering emails, brainstorming <a style="color: #385898; cursor: pointer;" tabindex="-1"></a>new strategies, vetting outside resources, and developing every piece of material from the ground up.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">(All while not-quite balancing my actual work, family, etc...)</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> And yet, here we are a year and a half later and nothing to show for it. I've dumped in my endless (yeah right!) time, energy and money (yes, someone, namely me, pays for every single administrative item from printing to paperclips) and those very people benefitting from my labours and expenses can't be bothered to participate or rsvp or show up.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> As I've expressed (loudly) over the course of the last few weeks, I feel as though my hands are tied. If it's not the administration trying to stall our efforts, then it's the other organizations we're building collaboration with. If it's not the other volunteers ignoring emails and tasks, than its the very members who can't be bothered to "opt in" via a quick message. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> So yeah, you might say I've had it. Had it. Refused it. Sent it back for a full refund.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> And then this evening...</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> Mid rant (girl's gotta let off the steam after all) I'm cut off and reminded why I'm doing it. "Because look what you made happen...J self-advocated. Who cares that it cost you almost a grand last year? He stood up for himself. Who cares that the money came out of your weekly food budget, or that you couldn't afford to take a vacation? He stood up for others. Who cares that you spent an hour walking to and from another hour's long meeting this morning that you have no stake in, listening to talk of food day vendors and insurance limits when you can't serve so much as a cup of coffee at your meetings without taking it out of your own wallet? Other parents saw what happens when you, as a parent advocate, led by example and raised him to be the bravest kid ever."</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> So yeah, I'm stuck here in this mire. This endless push and pull to get something new built on solid ground. This firm and steady shoving to put in place a strong foundation for what can be built in the future, long past my tenure as leader. And I'm stuck in my own wallet, shelling out for envelopes and printer cartridges instead of groceries. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> And you know what? Just for tonight? That's ok. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> I'm used to "making do".</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">We're used to barely making ends meet.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">We're definitely used to rolling with the punches. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> So just for tonight, it's handled. Just for tonight, I'm committed. Another chunk of change? Another 40 hours? Sure, why not? It's just another year before we're gone. And in that time...September to June? Who know what he'll watch me do? Who knows what he'll be inspired to do? Who knows who will be inspired by him?</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> No funds, no line items, no reimbursements?</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">That's fine, I'll pay for it.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">No time or rsvps?</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">That's fine, the meeting's set and I'll be there no matter what.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">One show instead of the 20 expected?</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">That's fine, quality over quantity. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> He's watching me. Watching to see how it's done. I'll be damned if I let him see me give up. Falter? Sure. That's part of the process. Tire? Stumble? Hit a wall? Vent until steam comes out of my ears??? Ditto. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> But give up? Hard NO. He's watching, and he knows one truth...</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> His Mami NEVER gives up.</span></div><p></p></div><p style="text-align: center;"><i><u><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></u></i></p>Confessions of the Caffeinatedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02668985059078459859noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468720099351084079.post-4170519600337638942023-09-15T05:59:00.002-04:002023-09-15T05:59:00.142-04:00...happy rosh hashanah...<p style="text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">To those among you who are celebrating:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg15sT5vDBLIZvW6pI4TKF1SueIrqyh--gmmjFIqlczwv3GfRwZVWnNMb6CxKLgSVT1G3RKyIm0znX9cE2uf68CRwN8XjSjxdQnun6vHVBU_B4nfGUl-NMaFs5034PGdK7-lX3xUnoCcQ63AUsW24H-Og3v5kKileXm-32-PsVdF2xfJwLo_z-JUwVUqPg/s410/Screenshot%20(533).png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="410" data-original-width="410" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg15sT5vDBLIZvW6pI4TKF1SueIrqyh--gmmjFIqlczwv3GfRwZVWnNMb6CxKLgSVT1G3RKyIm0znX9cE2uf68CRwN8XjSjxdQnun6vHVBU_B4nfGUl-NMaFs5034PGdK7-lX3xUnoCcQ63AUsW24H-Og3v5kKileXm-32-PsVdF2xfJwLo_z-JUwVUqPg/w400-h400/Screenshot%20(533).png" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"> Happy New Year to you and yours!</div><p></p>Confessions of the Caffeinatedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02668985059078459859noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468720099351084079.post-38046825762468764442023-09-11T17:00:00.000-04:002023-09-11T17:00:00.139-04:00...to sleep, perchance to dream...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Can you see me?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I think I'm fading. All my edges gone soft and gray.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Can you see me?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Am I dreaming? Or am I just caught here...in this moment...with no beginning or end?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">No rest?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">No sleep?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The sleepless nights have been piling up again.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">One day bleeds into the next...with nothing to staunch the flow.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I drift and doze, in fits and starts...stirring at some sound or other...some furtive shift from dark corners...or the restless toss and turn of the toddler beside me...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I startle awake...gasping, sometimes...shaking off cobwebs. My subconscious having found reason or resolution to any number of stressors it's been working at.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I try to count...100 down to 1, then back up again...but my mind interrupts with</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">did you?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">could you?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">have you?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">should you?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">It churns away in the midnight hours...leaping from one query to the next.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Determined to solve it all by morning.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I turn my head slowly to where the clock beckons from the corner.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Numbers aglow.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">A groan from deep within as I watch the minutes flick by.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The room is wreathed in blues and greys.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Weak yellow finds a path along the floor...bringing moonlight in to taunt me as I abandon the closed lids of wishfulness and stare into oppressive dark.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I try to turn it off.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">To tune it out.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">To silence the sigh and the snarl.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I call upon the ghosts.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Summon the day's quiet pleasures.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Try to breathe life into the moving pictures of memory.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">But they fade. Go dark.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Leaving words and images behind.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Items to address.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Problems to solve.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Challenges to overcome.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQV7D6wMQlSH95AW9sL87fgp3uSwaDYGl0NV4jqHoJZo9UmzXS05E2FUVMGDgTjLaoZSo70JVJm1fGpR5DNlyNX3kbflo3j56x5e2_KJ2eP3oKP5ICFXzMyt9lR_2ZGek6nu0C-dWj4ly2ylva-t-TBWjnzczstriXtWnbVzaqFzI6eDCmkvExdW-jfkc/s1080/Sleepless.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQV7D6wMQlSH95AW9sL87fgp3uSwaDYGl0NV4jqHoJZo9UmzXS05E2FUVMGDgTjLaoZSo70JVJm1fGpR5DNlyNX3kbflo3j56x5e2_KJ2eP3oKP5ICFXzMyt9lR_2ZGek6nu0C-dWj4ly2ylva-t-TBWjnzczstriXtWnbVzaqFzI6eDCmkvExdW-jfkc/s320/Sleepless.png" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">My days are so full of the movement from one person's need to another's,</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">that rational thought has fallen into the dark place.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Night-time has become 'office hours' for the mind that never sleeps.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">When order and hour melt into the shadow, it begins the untangling...pulling on one thought or another...one thread that unwinds then jerks at a knot...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Sleep is impossible.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Breathing slowly...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Counting...slower...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Blinking open when the weight of thought becomes too heavy on the lids.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Within these walls, all others sleep.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">They rest and they dream.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">If I hold my breath, I can hear theirs through open doorways. Steady in and steady out.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I try to match the pace with one or other, and choke.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I rise.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Countless times.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">To scrawl out some reminder.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">To note some clarity.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">To schedule some task.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I rise.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">And return.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Curl this way...then that...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Hot...then cold...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Digging my toes into the soft blanket...then kicking them free...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Staring...once more...and again...at the clock...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Unspoken dare to stop.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Tick...to-o-o-o-o-o-o-ck it blinks.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The room fogs over as lighter greys push out the dark.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The pale moonlight streak fades back into itself.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The room re-emerges...furnishings coming back into solid form and walls climbing.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I am awake.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Still.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Not again.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I am awake and I am tired, unrested.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I am tired.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Bone weary.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Brain addled.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The work of night having worn me to the bone.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I am tired.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">And terrified that another sleepless night will follow...</div>Confessions of the Caffeinatedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02668985059078459859noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468720099351084079.post-57818749380700439302023-09-08T15:30:00.008-04:002023-09-08T17:36:27.649-04:00...and miles to go (before i sleep)...<p style="text-align: center;">"You look...tired."</p><p style="text-align: center;">Thanks. I know that. I am.</p><p style="text-align: center;">Were we chatting IRL, there'd have already been an uncomfortably long pause, as I struggled to locate that brain-to-mouth connection. Silence would stretch into awkwardness, as you waited for me to keep up to my end of the conversation. "I'm sorry. I'm so tired.", you'd hear. Over and again. A mindless repetition during even the shortest of exchanges.</p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">(Just ask my *Sea-Star...she can attest!)</span></p><div style="text-align: center;">I. Am. Tired.<br />In all the ways.<br />And it shows.<br />I look, in my less-than-gentle appraisal of self, much like a worn out pillow...gone all soft and mushy and grey about the edges. My shoulders slump in like empty casing, and my waist...ugh...what waist...<br />Where once I stood tall and firm (in disposition and musculature), now I slouch and slump.</div><p style="text-align: center;">I am tired.</p><p style="text-align: center;">There is added weight...both figurative and literal, round about me.</p><div style="text-align: center;">The postpartum pounds that are stuck like glue, by prolactin and cortisol.<br />The grasping toddler limbs that need constant reassurance and pick-ups.<br />The strain of caregiving that spreads out far wider than just this little household.<br />The burdens of others very real and very present and very overwhelming needs, and my own inability to not dive in to try to help.</div><p style="text-align: center;">The unwanted weight of shackles round my feet...roots I can't yet untangle...others' luggage strapped on my back...</p><div style="text-align: center;">I am tired.<br />And I am tired of being tired.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Because I remember the alternative. I remember the me of 4 or so years ago.<br />I remember her, and I want to be her again.</div><div style="text-align: center;">I want:<br /> her energy and her spark<br />her sparkle and her creativity<br />her resourcefulness and her grit</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDhm7mnxtsLAcHYU3ZRmHW7VC6rMx5hXSc3QI1gEMvv0Rz1y0CDc_sP7Mjc9g-qS0LJyuK2BZ3aMQjpGR16EK61_tF5bLiymvWEUS8-yFWh5oxbveVwqg1QwSIsjZ4yUlU4G9fTnak59EBbuFuHBLUs-VlQFNOuktu6C52Jx5qX8fKuirJfJVTHpO1Z7Q/s3072/20181009_201404.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="2304" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDhm7mnxtsLAcHYU3ZRmHW7VC6rMx5hXSc3QI1gEMvv0Rz1y0CDc_sP7Mjc9g-qS0LJyuK2BZ3aMQjpGR16EK61_tF5bLiymvWEUS8-yFWh5oxbveVwqg1QwSIsjZ4yUlU4G9fTnak59EBbuFuHBLUs-VlQFNOuktu6C52Jx5qX8fKuirJfJVTHpO1Z7Q/w240-h320/20181009_201404.jpg" width="240" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Four years ago, after biking through the bay area at Sandy Hook.</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">And oh yes...I want her body.</div><div style="text-align: center;">The one that could recover. The one that could stretch and lift and power through.<br />The body that I could push beyond its limits...take 5...and then go again.<br />The body that wasn't so tired.</div><p style="text-align: center;">~~~</p><p style="text-align: center;">"You look...tired."</p><p style="text-align: center;">Thanks. I know that. I am.</p><div style="text-align: center;">I'm not getting enough sleep. I'm not getting the right fuel.<br />I don't have a village...or even a hamlet.<br />The team? It's me. I'm the team.<br /><span style="font-size: x-small;">(I'm also the problem.)</span><br />I'm so damn over-extended in serving everyone else.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">~~~</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">I'm tired.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Of this.</div><div style="text-align: center;">This version of me that doesn't feel or look or act like me.</div><div style="text-align: center;">This version that is Just Worn Out.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">So I've gotten back on the bike.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1E5c-p2WVqGzlhpp07ozpzbPFYJmLOPmpF3rKOiW70a05E2OSkH-tzf5aJYiA72Bvjz_9Z4IZkh-Is7wCHikJ8TxSIuCAp-JCW3AQPZEq5sugshbi7-kwnEq3sPGu_3pZmTlyBLurUND1rI3T3sY5n3rONd-MxKEV_ySwkdxn2xrgGKKWeJvxOsiRBuM/s3096/20181009_134413.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2322" data-original-width="3096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1E5c-p2WVqGzlhpp07ozpzbPFYJmLOPmpF3rKOiW70a05E2OSkH-tzf5aJYiA72Bvjz_9Z4IZkh-Is7wCHikJ8TxSIuCAp-JCW3AQPZEq5sugshbi7-kwnEq3sPGu_3pZmTlyBLurUND1rI3T3sY5n3rONd-MxKEV_ySwkdxn2xrgGKKWeJvxOsiRBuM/s320/20181009_134413.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Not this one, sadly. This one was crushed when a tree fell on the storage shed.<br />Like most of the losses, it's yet to be replaced.</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Literally.</div><div style="text-align: center;">The stationary cycle.</div><div style="text-align: center;">The one that, for a while, I was cranking away at each day. On which, for a short while there, I was putting in my daily 20, sweating my way through lockdown/postpartum and distance-learning and Covid and social-distancing. Pedaling toward victory...until I quit.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">When things got...hard...harder...more complicated...more chaotic...</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">I've chosen September to start back up.</div><div style="text-align: center;">I've a plan in place...a challenge to only myself...</div><div style="text-align: center;">1 mile for each date.</div><div style="text-align: center;">1 for September 1st</div><div style="text-align: center;">2 for September 2nd</div><div style="text-align: center;">and so on...</div><div style="text-align: center;">through the 30th</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">And as for accountability?</div><div style="text-align: center;">This.</div><div style="text-align: center;">This page.</div><div style="text-align: center;">This post.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Where today it's the 8th of September and I've done</div><div style="text-align: center;">the 7 and 6 and 5 and 4 and 3 and 2 and 1</div><div style="text-align: center;">of this month's yesterdays.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Where I was about to finish up typing and hop back on finish out my 8...</div><div style="text-align: center;">but now it's storming outside, and I've boys to wrangle into the safest corner.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">465 miles.</div><div style="text-align: center;">By the end of the month.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">465 miles, just for me.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Cycled in silence...or in the chatter of a phone vent sesh with my *Sea-Star...or in the sweaty hands turning the page of a book read for pleasure.</div><div style="text-align: center;">465 miles and all the minutes and hours I'm taking for myself in which to cycle through them.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Because I'm tired of being this tired.</div><div style="text-align: center;">I want to be strong again.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">*Sea-Star: the nickname for one of my</span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span>biological half-siblings </span><span>as we navigate</span></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">our strange sisterhood of genes and</span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">choice and overcoming.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>Confessions of the Caffeinatedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02668985059078459859noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468720099351084079.post-19674458496839145442023-09-08T12:23:00.005-04:002023-09-08T12:23:57.007-04:00...first bite...<p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i><u> <span style="background-color: white; color: #050505; white-space-collapse: preserve;">6.September.2023</span></u></i></span></p><div class="x11i5rnm xat24cr x1mh8g0r x1vvkbs xtlvy1s x126k92a" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Henri's 1st day of Pre-K (the homeschool edition)</span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbw0lDxR7nIFz_nCokCSzUxvSsHL2Jnnwo5s8EWZ_s5VAbISm-XvU6DXY06WxINzCKXRai5r8LoNAePkrbIruFQl8l5hafBuZqKiOy-Gxg5Pao-61MNc19pWV4ywtgKMkTUoa6ebv_BUhmll9CHRGpiMYV--5vTK-djvdmL5p0d8re2ApSPdWhw0InYu4/s1080/375740122_10161788226496614_3161959502606896361_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbw0lDxR7nIFz_nCokCSzUxvSsHL2Jnnwo5s8EWZ_s5VAbISm-XvU6DXY06WxINzCKXRai5r8LoNAePkrbIruFQl8l5hafBuZqKiOy-Gxg5Pao-61MNc19pWV4ywtgKMkTUoa6ebv_BUhmll9CHRGpiMYV--5vTK-djvdmL5p0d8re2ApSPdWhw0InYu4/w400-h400/375740122_10161788226496614_3161959502606896361_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><span style="font-family: inherit;"><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>"The beginning is the most important part of the work" -Plato</span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkWfEvM0hQtBuS5UBNVPlxk4FPLr8VS0pCV-b1QvKAbzvcO_yOdLTOKpO2F74UHRoDgWXgTCEmmdOVSG4CLBaU3ddSbVAdbcqykO8h-pSDlubXrLHu6xeExJtiHOcy2N9T8uEiP32ykAd7lJaEuXHWkvc99G271TyfB3EUtsdq5Jrq3-ClbYV6DqDvCSI/s1080/375667811_10161788226826614_8249634057731449002_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkWfEvM0hQtBuS5UBNVPlxk4FPLr8VS0pCV-b1QvKAbzvcO_yOdLTOKpO2F74UHRoDgWXgTCEmmdOVSG4CLBaU3ddSbVAdbcqykO8h-pSDlubXrLHu6xeExJtiHOcy2N9T8uEiP32ykAd7lJaEuXHWkvc99G271TyfB3EUtsdq5Jrq3-ClbYV6DqDvCSI/w400-h400/375667811_10161788226826614_8249634057731449002_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><span style="font-family: inherit;"><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>"Promise me you'll always remember: You're braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think. " - A.A. Milne</span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU1smj65f3bDh7ngCh3p8XV4TpzxRC26KbYNFrEPNzUsZ0uYb3lBabpK2dcHyLNvROMlm6qjIuvzPlyjni_qVEXf6hlaKvMVbTWn7Cyi1tu1U5pRhGDb_gVP0JsTe3D8cuWtv3q0Kb8tK4V69IfQ6sOzl-XH_5Fl_9D93od8ssfbsiN9wsskOVLQhnRBE/s1080/375596116_10161788226921614_3080866586145248626_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU1smj65f3bDh7ngCh3p8XV4TpzxRC26KbYNFrEPNzUsZ0uYb3lBabpK2dcHyLNvROMlm6qjIuvzPlyjni_qVEXf6hlaKvMVbTWn7Cyi1tu1U5pRhGDb_gVP0JsTe3D8cuWtv3q0Kb8tK4V69IfQ6sOzl-XH_5Fl_9D93od8ssfbsiN9wsskOVLQhnRBE/w400-h400/375596116_10161788226921614_3080866586145248626_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></div></div></div><div class="x11i5rnm xat24cr x1mh8g0r x1vvkbs xtlvy1s x126k92a" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">~~~</span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div></div><div class="x11i5rnm xat24cr x1mh8g0r x1vvkbs xtlvy1s x126k92a" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div dir="auto"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Here's to setting your spark </span>✨<span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">ablaze and finding your own lifelong love of learning, little one.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Here's to celebrating your unique interests, creativity, and approach.</span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Here's to developing your intellect alongside your independence.</span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">And...most importantly...here's to you and all that you are becoming!</span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">🍎</span></div></div>Confessions of the Caffeinatedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02668985059078459859noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468720099351084079.post-74259144919214677562023-09-08T09:51:00.003-04:002023-09-08T09:51:34.200-04:00...21 (in days gone by)...<div style="text-align: center;"> <i><u><span style="font-size: medium;">In Days Gone By:<br /></span></u></i><span style="font-size: x-small;">8.September.2020</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div class="xdj266r x11i5rnm xat24cr x1mh8g0r x1vvkbs x126k92a" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; margin: 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; text-align: left; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">My alarm chimed this morning. </span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: x-small;">(Literally. As in..."Wind Chimes", courtesy of the ringtones/notifications/etc app I downloaded ages ago...back in those "halycon" pre-Covid days when schedules were life and every task had its own tone.)</span></div></div><div class="x11i5rnm xat24cr x1mh8g0r x1vvkbs xtlvy1s x126k92a" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; text-align: left; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">So chime it did. Sweetly and softly, just barely rippling through the deep dark quiet of 5a.m. I ignored it, silencing the alarm with one hand and the whimper of Henri next to me with the other. Co-sleeping...such a misnomer. He sleeps in <a style="color: #385898; cursor: pointer;" tabindex="-1"></a>fits and starts while I cling to the side of the bed, scared to move. The crib lies vacant just a few feet away. Rejected. As it is every night over and over and over again until I finally give in and bundle him up into the center of my bed...clear off the blankets and pillows...and lay rigidly against the outside, barring any rolling off or cat clambers. The night had been long...barely time to drift between nursing demands. The alarm chimed and I groped about for the phone. Turned off the volume. Rocked my little neighbor with one arm and turned my head, closing my eyes...counting down again...</span></div></div><div class="x11i5rnm xat24cr x1mh8g0r x1vvkbs xtlvy1s x126k92a" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; text-align: left; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">And then I woke. </span></div></div><div class="x11i5rnm xat24cr x1mh8g0r x1vvkbs xtlvy1s x126k92a" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; text-align: left; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">But a minute later, or maybe two.</span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The alarm.</span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">THE alarm.</span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The first day of back to school...minus the back, the to, and the school. Time to rise and shine and prep for the unknown. Time to wake my Junior. </span></div></div><div class="x11i5rnm xat24cr x1mh8g0r x1vvkbs xtlvy1s x126k92a" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; text-align: left; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">He picked the time, by the way.</span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Not that you were wondering. </span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Time for coffee...served hot and steaming...passed from my weary hands to his groggy ones. Time for breakfast and a shower. Time for a first day photo. Time, more importantly now, for playing with his little brother...squeezing in a book or two and their beloved floor time routine. </span></div></div><div class="x11i5rnm xat24cr x1mh8g0r x1vvkbs xtlvy1s x126k92a" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; text-align: left; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Some time later, I stood in the kitchen, my own mug gone lukewarm...listening to the happy baby chortles and sing-song baritone. I'd just finished rearranging the dining area...a bit of the push this here/remove that there swap...to take us from dining to zooming. Small space living is forever a balancing act, now all the more so with another purpose for the room to serve. School. A window into the world, or a window into his private life. Either way, uncomfortable. </span></div></div><div class="x11i5rnm xat24cr x1mh8g0r x1vvkbs xtlvy1s x126k92a" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; text-align: left; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Over breakfast I asked him how he was feeling about Remote-Learning. He answered right away...years of life with me must have taught him well...he can guess the questions well in advance.</span></div></div><div class="x11i5rnm xat24cr x1mh8g0r x1vvkbs xtlvy1s x126k92a" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; text-align: left; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">"So here's the thing, Mami: I enjoy learning. You know that. We're alike. I like new information and new challenges. I like learning. But not school. School is where they teach "the What" but not "the Why". It's sort of like the manuals that come with Ikea flat-packs. There's a parts listing (and you hope all the pieces are there!) and the diagrams, but it's up to the individual student to build it out. And more than that...it's only the instructions for the basic model. You want to customize it? Create something more suited to your lifestyle or your creativity? That's all on you. All you get in the manual-the school is the basic/the average/the conventional. And sometimes that's just so damn frustrating! It's that feeling of "Here's something new and exciting to explore...but, no, we're not actually going to do anything with it". </span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">So it's definitely time to try something new. I don't know if this is it. But it's worth the trying, I suppose. The schedule is way shorter, so maybe that means more time for self-guided learning? I'm nervous what impact the shortened schedule will have on the quality of education. Longer periods but less frequent. Will that mean cramming things in faster, or losing out on some of the material? And assessments? How are they handling quizzes and tests? How will assessments be equitable in this hybrid-schoolyear? </span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">But since you asked...I'm glad to be attending remotely. Wish that had been an option all along. I'm glad to be able to circumvent all the overwhelming 'white noise' of sensory chaos and just focus on the learning."</span></div></div><div class="x11i5rnm xat24cr x1mh8g0r x1vvkbs xtlvy1s x126k92a" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; text-align: left; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">He answered...and I wrote (in Mami shorthand)...knowing I'd want to see it here in years to come. The moment passed. Breakfast done and the hustle and bustle resumed. </span></div></div><div class="x11i5rnm xat24cr x1mh8g0r x1vvkbs xtlvy1s x126k92a" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; text-align: left; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I stood in the kitchen with my coffee, waiting to be called in, and thinking back on all the frenetic first days in the past. </span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">No bus to wait on this morning.</span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">No bookbag to repack.</span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">No supply list posted at the front door. </span></div></div><div class="x11i5rnm xat24cr x1mh8g0r x1vvkbs xtlvy1s x126k92a" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; text-align: left; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Just this. Easing on in. Rearranging the furniture and opening the Chromebook.</span></div></div><div class="x11i5rnm xat24cr x1mh8g0r x1vvkbs xtlvy1s x126k92a" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; text-align: left; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">His school day began when the meeting opened. I watched him raise his hand and wave, a wry grimace of a smile on his face. I watched his eyes tracking across the screen. Heard the staccato click on fingers on keyboard. Saw his head nod and heard him say his name...repeating it for the teacher who still pronounced it incorrectly...marking himself as "present". </span></div></div><div class="x11i5rnm xat24cr x1mh8g0r x1vvkbs xtlvy1s x126k92a" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; text-align: left; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I caught his eyes briefly, the smallest acknowledgement that he was "good to go", before I whisked Henri from the crib and wrestled him into the carrier for our walk. </span></div></div><div class="x11i5rnm xat24cr x1mh8g0r x1vvkbs xtlvy1s x126k92a" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; text-align: left; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">While the newly christened Junior watched (literally) his school-day begin, the junior and I headed down the drive and walked in the cool damp of early morning. Back and forth. Forth and back. I spoke nonsense to him. He played at enraptured audience. We breathed in the fresh air and heard the birdsong. We watched squirrels flirt and wrestle. We stood, both with eyes gone wide with surprise, as school busses drove by. </span></div></div><div class="x11i5rnm xat24cr x1mh8g0r x1vvkbs xtlvy1s x126k92a" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; text-align: left; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">None of this even remotely like what came before.</span></div></div></div>Confessions of the Caffeinatedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02668985059078459859noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468720099351084079.post-39280608150973504992023-09-07T10:00:00.001-04:002023-09-07T10:00:00.147-04:00...20 (in days gone by)...<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i><u>In Days Gone By:<br /></u></i></span><span style="font-size: x-small;">6.September.2017</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; text-align: center; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">As I continue to struggle through the growing pains brought on by all the heartaches and heartbreaks that hit me this past year, I look to this image daily to remind me...</span></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; text-align: center; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; text-align: center; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPTFDi91RESSK6ZZA6HyNTfZyoynEaJkoc17IzcdYaobGgd1O3wFwyaeiuSVDHPRyaoO62HYwj-iTIfRW6G3_Zoq4Lv8ZlA8VRjLn0zu7ka9O8WQJHcBdybD_HNSf4uEuH2rf-q8l8jAAr3ze5CtNsVQ5Oi6JrWUV-HkudHpJSmuZSGrhHNiXFu63SYUg/s590/21314500_10155873720986614_698761506962859815_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="385" data-original-width="590" height="209" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPTFDi91RESSK6ZZA6HyNTfZyoynEaJkoc17IzcdYaobGgd1O3wFwyaeiuSVDHPRyaoO62HYwj-iTIfRW6G3_Zoq4Lv8ZlA8VRjLn0zu7ka9O8WQJHcBdybD_HNSf4uEuH2rf-q8l8jAAr3ze5CtNsVQ5Oi6JrWUV-HkudHpJSmuZSGrhHNiXFu63SYUg/s320/21314500_10155873720986614_698761506962859815_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; text-align: center; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> that what was never intended won't ever be,</span></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; text-align: center; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">and that I was never going to find a place to settle in and settle down.</span></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; text-align: center; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; text-align: center; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>I will always only ever be this perfectly imperfect. </i></span></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; text-align: center; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; text-align: center; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Rigid where others bend,</span></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; text-align: center; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">generous where others withhold,</span></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; text-align: center; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">sympathetic where others judge,</span></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; text-align: center; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">broken where others are whole,</span></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; text-align: center; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">strong where others <a style="color: #385898; cursor: pointer;" tabindex="-1"></a>are soft,</span></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; text-align: center; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; text-align: center; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">out of place where others fit in...</span></div></div>Confessions of the Caffeinatedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02668985059078459859noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468720099351084079.post-10882795305744018982023-09-06T10:00:00.002-04:002023-09-06T10:00:00.150-04:00...19 (in days gone by)...<div style="text-align: center;"> <span style="color: black; text-align: center;"> </span><span style="color: black; font-size: medium; text-align: center;"><i><u>In Days Gone By:</u></i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">5.October.2022</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div class="xdj266r x11i5rnm xat24cr x1mh8g0r x1vvkbs x126k92a" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; margin: 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; text-align: left; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Parenting:</span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">You plan, and decide, and expect.</span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">You create a series of check-points, of milestones, of goals.</span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">You pour energy into creating rituals and rules. </span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">You spend 10 minutes asking your toddler to put his book on 'the chair',</span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">(the recliner in the background)</span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">even going so far as to stop-drop-swoop</span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">(him up from where he's walked away, ignoring you, dropping the book again)</span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">while picking up Everything Else he's left in his detritus-wake. </span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">You boil...inside...wondering when <a style="color: #385898; cursor: pointer;" tabindex="-1"></a>life ended and this hellish rinse-repeat of cleaning up</span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The Same Mess</span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">every hour on the hour replaced it.</span></div></div><div class="x11i5rnm xat24cr x1mh8g0r x1vvkbs xtlvy1s x126k92a" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; text-align: left; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">And then...</span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">'<b>Ta Da!</b>' he says.</span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Ta Da! Perfect T. Perfect D.</span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">(Speech therapy win, but that's another story.)</span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Ta Da, and pride and pointing...at The Book...perfectly balanced on The Chair.</span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9on226cTWPnu-GfmE3RBDzOGHNqBQwWUehqcxxGlm2LcCDibTinp7levmPdvmnd0xb010Ma9ryk8VXhsKjcCR5kRm0xaHqyEf8o_ckOJ--y7i96F5vjpKLqTUxoyat0GIeGqAniBEF0R744muOPAvJrY7htPPRPITdUW-Gjw7KwnKVTsY2tUyygk8Oec/s526/310108609_10160932277571614_2139115338398000224_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="526" data-original-width="526" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9on226cTWPnu-GfmE3RBDzOGHNqBQwWUehqcxxGlm2LcCDibTinp7levmPdvmnd0xb010Ma9ryk8VXhsKjcCR5kRm0xaHqyEf8o_ckOJ--y7i96F5vjpKLqTUxoyat0GIeGqAniBEF0R744muOPAvJrY7htPPRPITdUW-Gjw7KwnKVTsY2tUyygk8Oec/s320/310108609_10160932277571614_2139115338398000224_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div class="x11i5rnm xat24cr x1mh8g0r x1vvkbs xtlvy1s x126k92a" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; text-align: left; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">(Precision of language, Mami. Buckle up...you're in for another bumpy ride!)</span></div></div><div class="x11i5rnm xat24cr x1mh8g0r x1vvkbs xtlvy1s x126k92a" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; text-align: left; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Ta Da!</span></div></div><div class="x11i5rnm xat24cr x1mh8g0r x1vvkbs xtlvy1s x126k92a" style="background-color: white; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; text-align: left;"><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span><span style="color: #050505; font-family: inherit;"><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">Here's to Happy </span></span><span style="color: #050505;"><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">Accidents...and</span></span><span style="color: #050505; font-family: inherit;"><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;"> being proud of creative rule 'following'! </span></span></span></div></div><div class="x11i5rnm xat24cr x1mh8g0r x1vvkbs xtlvy1s x126k92a" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; text-align: left; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>Never change, Henri!</i></span></div></div></div>Confessions of the Caffeinatedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02668985059078459859noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468720099351084079.post-89344513267700834662023-09-06T06:00:00.009-04:002023-09-06T06:00:00.138-04:00...tenuously tethered...<div style="text-align: center;">There is both shame and serenity in realizing how insignificant you are.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Both exist, in equal measure.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Shame: of self, of purpose, of effort, of...hope founded in the unfulfilled need of the inner child. Shame in the wounds both caused and suffered, and the map of scars left behind.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Serenity: of...permission to detach, of finding the bottom and finding yourself still standing, of...hope unfettered. Serenity in the familiarity of the scars that knit you together.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">The understanding of how very little you matter,</div><div style="text-align: center;">sometimes even to those who matter to you,</div><div style="text-align: center;">can blaze up suddenly...</div><div style="text-align: center;">and make cinders of all the formalities...the constructs...the obligations...</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">The understanding of how very little you matter can reveal itself in the smallest of moments...</div><div style="text-align: center;">an unmasked glimpse...</div><div style="text-align: center;">a careless turn of phrase...</div><div style="text-align: center;">a single photograph...</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Like both a gut punch and a full breath...somehow, caught in the same moment.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Despair and deliverance.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Shame and serenity, in equal measure.</div><div style="text-align: center;">A 'putting in place'.</div><div style="text-align: center;">A relinquishment of responsibility to reparation or relationship.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">That moment, suddenly there, where before there was angst and hesitation...</div><div style="text-align: center;">That moment...as though someone has unlocked the door on the gilded cage..</div><div style="text-align: center;">saying "you are free to go"</div><div style="text-align: center;">saying you are free of the cage</div><div style="text-align: center;">but</div><div style="text-align: center;">also</div><div style="text-align: center;">saying you aren't special enough to want to cage...to enclose...to keep...</div><div style="text-align: center;">saying...</div><div style="text-align: center;">you aren't important enough to take care of.</div><div style="text-align: center;">It is the very essence of bittersweet.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAWpOaFPRyNnsVkq4s2o1fRqLUBWAG6nY-8PsDMcrvOZ4E8gD4FpLcCmN1Qf5Ogn-1QZ8kEaTUbUuY-nwsL5ybe6KKslmPSAffYI9PBV5mODCqTpds5ex_EHGhqOX-KMefQ-DWgJBc2Xk64DVsZVm4lGJcG1qgzOpKhQQiqLQ75YTfIDQNiG-YYHzsHks/s1080/insignificance.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAWpOaFPRyNnsVkq4s2o1fRqLUBWAG6nY-8PsDMcrvOZ4E8gD4FpLcCmN1Qf5Ogn-1QZ8kEaTUbUuY-nwsL5ybe6KKslmPSAffYI9PBV5mODCqTpds5ex_EHGhqOX-KMefQ-DWgJBc2Xk64DVsZVm4lGJcG1qgzOpKhQQiqLQ75YTfIDQNiG-YYHzsHks/w400-h400/insignificance.png" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Realizing...</div><div style="text-align: center;">as you move through the shame and the serenity...</div><div style="text-align: center;">that you need no longer make yourself available...</div><div style="text-align: center;">that you can leave the door open, without also standing in it as guardian and greeter...</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div>The understanding of how very little you matter,</div><div>sometimes even to those who matter to you,</div><div>is a lesson well learned but hard earned.</div><div><br /></div><div>It's recognizing that 'the ties that bind' don't...</div><div>it's realizing that roots once severed grow divergent from one another...</div><div>it's resolving to be in the now...</div><div><br /></div><div>It's moving through the shame and into what waits beyond it...</div><div>It's finding serenity in the present when we stop trying to fix the past...</div><div><br /></div><div>It's cutting yourself loose and plotting the course without being swung by the weight of responsibility.</div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>Confessions of the Caffeinatedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02668985059078459859noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468720099351084079.post-56745971273887260022023-09-05T09:34:00.007-04:002023-09-05T09:34:36.013-04:00...18 (in days gone by)...<h4 style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: black;"> </span><span style="color: black; font-size: medium;"><i><u>In Days Gone By:<br /></u></i></span><span style="color: black; font-size: x-small;">3.September.2019</span></span></h4><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> <span style="background-color: white; color: #050505; white-space-collapse: preserve;">For those whose children went "back to school" this morning:</span></span></p><div class="x11i5rnm xat24cr x1mh8g0r x1vvkbs xtlvy1s x126k92a" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Some of you are exhausted.</span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Your summer was hectic and busy.</span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Your child's vacation a thing to work <a style="color: #385898; cursor: pointer;" tabindex="-1"></a>around...filling up all their moments by pouring every last drop out of your own cup.</span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div></div><div class="x11i5rnm xat24cr x1mh8g0r x1vvkbs xtlvy1s x126k92a" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Some of you are excited.</span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Your morning full of the same frantic fervor as your child's was. </span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">New school supplies and new outfits and new teachers and new adventures!</span></div></div><div class="x11i5rnm xat24cr x1mh8g0r x1vvkbs xtlvy1s x126k92a" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Some of you are relieved.</span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The schedule resuming "normalcy" is like a siren call...you've been impatiently waiting it out all summer long, watching as your child floated, tetherless and unsecure.</span></div></div><div class="x11i5rnm xat24cr x1mh8g0r x1vvkbs xtlvy1s x126k92a" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Some of you are heartbroken and heart-filled. </span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The bus pulling away from the curb...a sign of more change, more growth, more time passing despite your best efforts to hold onto this child in this moment at this time.</span></div></div><div class="x11i5rnm xat24cr x1mh8g0r x1vvkbs xtlvy1s x126k92a" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">To each of you...a hug...a high five...a smile that we alone can understand. </span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">A wish, shared freely, that our children will all have a good "First Day" and that this schoolyear will challenge their intellects but not break their spirits.</span></div></div>Confessions of the Caffeinatedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02668985059078459859noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468720099351084079.post-19732076404629371722023-09-05T08:52:00.006-04:002023-10-25T09:08:42.319-04:00...17 (in days gone by)...<div style="text-align: center;"> <span style="color: black;"> </span><span style="color: black; font-size: medium;"><i><u>In Days Gone By:<br /></u></i></span><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: black; font-size: x-small;">5.September.2018</span></span></div><p style="text-align: center;"><br /><span style="font-family: inherit; white-space-collapse: preserve;">The Freshman, 15: My alarm chimed at 4:30am ("Never Enough" from The Greatest Showman as a riff on my lack of sleep) and I made it from bed to kitchen with nary a misstep...where I then stood in front of an open refrigerator in complete fog...contemplating lasagna. </span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Yes, lasagna.</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; white-space-collapse: preserve;">And cake.</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; white-space-collapse: preserve;">And finally, the fog cleared a bit and my brain woke up and remembered...breakfast.</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Coffee made...ouch, too hot, from reheating...the handle of my mug leaving a red mark on my finger.</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Alarm #2-"Transformers"</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; white-space-collapse: preserve;">"The Son Also Rises"</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; white-space-collapse: preserve;">He's annoyed at my chipper..."why are you being so cheerful?", so I drop the pretense and hand over his coffee.</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><span style="white-space-collapse: collapse;">Into </span><a style="color: #385898; cursor: pointer; white-space-collapse: collapse;" tabindex="-1"></a><span style="white-space-collapse: collapse;">the kitchen proper then....ingredients out, utensils ready, food prep underway.</span><br style="white-space-collapse: collapse;" /><span style="white-space-collapse: collapse;">While this and then that were frying and boiling, quick scroll through the phone for updates and emails. Silent groan at the inbox. Sip...calm...repeat. Fresh press of coffee, tea to steep, OJ plus probiotics whisked (ugh), water. Plating food, cutting fruit, tray ready.</span></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Breakfast...refills...shower...alarms every two minutes as I knock on the bathroom door signalling him to move on to the next step: soak, soap, rinse, shampoo, rinse, face, rinse, etc... Double check that the clothes are laid out-had to spend 1/2 hour last night going over options. Knock...2 minutes...knock...2 minutes...knock...</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Finally the squeal of the water turning off and the "I love you, Mami" as he comes out. It's a question, not a statement. I love you, Mami? Meant to elicit the same response... I love you more. I love you the most. Not possible. Possible. Not probable. Probable. Inconceivable. Conceivable. Incomprehensible. Prehensibibibi-bibbidy-bobbity-boo-I-Love-You!</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; white-space-collapse: preserve;">I wash the breakfast dishes while he gets ready. Print out a second copy of today's schedule and write in the class name, room and teacher next to each time slot. Tear the house apart looking for his keyfob: the one that has a pill dispenser for his rescue remedy and another for his earplugs. MIA!!! Why didn't I do this last night? Where's my replacements? Wait...one last spot I didn't look...Found it! (Pat myself on the back for being a genius...ha!)</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; white-space-collapse: preserve;">He's ready-ish...still teeth to brush (sensory processing dysfunction anyone?) and hair to brush (ditto).</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Alarm #3-"Tokyo Ghoul remix" elicits a grin from him.</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; white-space-collapse: preserve;">The alarm name: "Beginning of the End" gets me a pair of rolled eyes.</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; white-space-collapse: preserve;">We grab the stack I've put together by the door: pad, pen, glasses case, key fob, water bottle...walk down the drive and contemplate the meaning of life, the fear of navigating new hallways, and the ongoing existence of the same kids who bullied him for the past 9 years. I check my phone far too frequently...noting every passing minute past the scheduled bus stop time. Worrying that he's been skipped. He chatters on about his latest design, filling the empty morning with sound to drown out his nervousness. I run through my checklist mentally, then verbally. Step by step directions for him.</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Brakes squeal as the bus pulls up across the street. I grab his hand...motherhood 101 makes me firmly grip him and say "look both ways" as though he's still a toddler. We make our way across, aware of the annoyed drivers stopped in their morning commute. He puts one foot on the bottom step, then turns..quickly...to peck me on the cheek...before disappearing into the shadows of the bus. The driver mumbles at me...something about when and where to expect him later on. I smile, nod, wave...walk back across the street to wave and smile as the bus pulls away. My hand finally drops...sagging....my smile drops, too. I feel...empty...</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; white-space-collapse: preserve;">One foot in front of the other...I walk...1/2 mile down, 1/2 mile back. The world is quiet. I see the golden glow of morning sun on the leaves and grasses. I stop and wait a while, watching a cardinal in the bush as he watches me.</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; white-space-collapse: preserve;">I see a doe in the distance, back by the tree line...with her young one. I see my shadow on the road and remember when his barely came up to my knee. My arms itch for a moment, the way they used to when he was a baby and I missed him while at work.</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; white-space-collapse: preserve;">He'll be home, soon enough. And I've things to do before the bus returns. Back up the drive and in to the house. Picking up the bits and pieces of a busy morning. Log in to my work-site while I refill my coffee, all the while my head is with him...my heart is with him. He leaves, and I split in two...</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; white-space-collapse: preserve;">He'll be home, soon enough. With a list of things we've yet to buy. Supplies needed. Ideas he's had. Drawings he's scribbled while there.</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; white-space-collapse: preserve;">15. Today. At Freshmen Orientation. 15, and on to high school. And my arms itch at the thought. If I close my eyes, he's a baby again...a toddler...a kindergartener...a 6th grader...a guest speaker at Rutger's. If I close my eyes, he's all the boys he's been before...and when I open them...he's all the ones he's yet to become.</span></p>Confessions of the Caffeinatedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02668985059078459859noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468720099351084079.post-27935578089246883082023-09-04T05:59:00.003-04:002023-09-04T05:59:00.157-04:00...happy labor day...<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Greetings, readers...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Wishing you a happy day that fills your cup!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnoI6H7Mh-RQMxPpuBS4nhx3Xac27Iqe5FtePS_W0TuRgMgb5J2FIDTaOXm-3rGmIYKc4eyKkUJ6ewB0UBBo9BNZP1HnCgqyiaj5lSukuH7niQ9hiRvLC_EOTbrjhXqLWFz2BtpQ8KqnuilvFQPwVeOsvBcsmEntPD5rd6WBO2f1QCdHSnBWli__W0-ZM/s1080/Labor%20Day%20post.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnoI6H7Mh-RQMxPpuBS4nhx3Xac27Iqe5FtePS_W0TuRgMgb5J2FIDTaOXm-3rGmIYKc4eyKkUJ6ewB0UBBo9BNZP1HnCgqyiaj5lSukuH7niQ9hiRvLC_EOTbrjhXqLWFz2BtpQ8KqnuilvFQPwVeOsvBcsmEntPD5rd6WBO2f1QCdHSnBWli__W0-ZM/w400-h400/Labor%20Day%20post.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Whether you spend it resting and relaxing, filling your shopping</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">bags or your travel mugs, I hope it is good to the last drop!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><br /></div><br /> <p></p>Confessions of the Caffeinatedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02668985059078459859noreply@blogger.com0