I’m beginning to sound like a broken record but it’s still raining, and the soil is getting so saturated that when I was commuting home, a tree fell on a Bart train. Not my train, phew!
Caroline and I are tired of the rain, so we’re taking the car this weekend and are just going to drive south until we hit some sun beams. She needs to learn drive a stick, anyway, as part of her general education.
My parents had weird priorities in that sense, for us: they insisted we get a HS diploma, take dancing lessons and learn how to drive a car. The HS diploma and driver’s license seem reasonable, but the dancing lessons dated back to some 19th century norm when formal dancing was part of having an education, being civilized…and finding a husband (?).
I did take those lessons but wouldn’t want to have to waltz again if my life depended on it. Jon and I have been talking about taking salsa lessons, but never acted on it… lame… that’s the thing: the “one day” resolution sucks as it has become the equivalent of “never,” for who has time these days? Of course we have more time than we think but we waste much of it on old and new media as a quick fix and escape out of our hectic lives. If we threw all that media out the window we could write a War and Peace in a year… well, maybe not a year.
This is why I’m writing this diary online– to become grounded and centered again. A moment in my day that I want to reflect and pause, and try to say something worthwhile, although I also feel like I’m rambling.
When Jon and I came home tonight, dripping like wet cats, Caroline was baking pizzas from scratch. What a wonderful meal! After dinner, when she left to go upstairs I was thinking out loud and blabbed to Jon who was sitting in the living room: “You’ll never hear me playing favorites but boy sometimes she just is when she’s doing sweet stuff like this” (my mother would say: that’s why we have daughters– to fight with but also to be loved in a way that we aren’t always loved by sons).
Then when I walked into the living room she was there on the couch, having heard every word. Parent Fail. Will, if you’re reading this (as if), you are my favorite in other ways. Every child is special but every child will show his/her strengths in different ways. I love you both and you are my pride and joy. I’m hella impressed with how independent, strong and sweet you both have turned out, and sadly, I can’t take any credit for it, because it’s all you– your spirits shine like bright candles in this stormy world and I’m convinced you both are going to make this place a better place.
Your mother, on the other hand, is a sad old bitch who needs a haircut, should lose a few pounds and puts her foot in her mouth on a daily basis. Like that time I was texting to a friend about that awful mammogram and it turned out I was texting with her husband… Embarrassment isn’t for the faint of heart but I’m so fainthearted that sometimes I think I should have joined the Marines to toughen up.
See? I’m rambling again. Time to hit the sack.
Remember that lullaby I used to sing to you?
Het is de hoogste tijd
Om naar bed toe te gaan
Kijk eens even op de klok
Alle kippetjes zijn al op stok
Gosh, I miss those days. And Will, I miss you even more… coz you’re not home…