Mondays

I love Mondays!

At the totally reasonable hour of 10:00, Maya and Eli have a sibling dance class together, and Nate and I spend that 45 minutes hanging out. Today we read Calvin and Hobbes together for the whole time (except for the many peeks through the window to check up on the littlies' cuteness) which is something that we both thoroughly enjoy.

The weather is absolutely beautiful today. After we got home from dance, we spread out a picnic blanket and had some snacks out front in the shade. The kids did some easel art, rode bikes, ran around, I worked on Maya's scarf (yay for knitting!) and read a bit more Calvin and Hobbes. After a few hours of that, we wandered over to the playground and I pushed Nate on the swing while Eli and Maya ran through the fountains in their undies. It was sooo warm in the sun.

Now we're hanging out at home. Nate is playing a game with Bumma (Nick's mom) on the computer while they chat via Skype's awesomeness, Maya is watching, and Eli is chilling here with me downstairs while we wait for our food to finish cooking.

Maya has ballet at 5:00 which she completely loves. I'll take her while Nick stays home with the boys, and I'll get to finish her scarf and maybe start on Eli's. Then Nate has gymnastics at 7:00 which he completely loves, and Nick will take him while I get the littler ones to bed.

Mondays are great.

Here's my favorite Calvin strip of the day: Mom is in bed and jumps up when she hears Calvin yelling from the other room, "Mom! Wake up! Come quick!" She says, "What's wrong? What's the matter?" and goes into his room. He says, "Do you think love is nothing but a biochemical reaction designed to make sure our genes get passed on?" Mom, frazzled, replies, "Whatever it is, it's all that's keeping me from strangling you right now." Alone in his room, Calvin says, "Mom's midnight reassurances are never very reassuring." I love that kid.

Northwest Mothers Milk Bank

I am very excited to be participating in Harvest, an event to benefit the Northwest Mothers Milk Bank.

What is a milk bank? From their site:

A milk bank screens, collects, processes and dispenses donated human milk as a community service, providing human milk to babies whose own mothers cannot supply the milk to meet their baby’s needs.

A milk bank is also a resource for health professionals and the general public in the uses and benefits of human milk, the standard in infant feeding.

While we're on the subject, check out this essay which explains why I'll never say, "Breast is best!"
Watch Your Language!
By Diane Wiessinger, MS, IBCLC
(Reprinted from the Journal of Human Lactation, Vol. 12, No. 1, 1996)

Feeling grateful

Today is a good day. Here is a short list of things that I am thankful for today:

-- My lovely uncle sent Nate a couple of books: On Food and Cooking - The Science and Lore of the Kitchen by Harold McGee, and The Curious Cook - More Kitchen Science and Lore, also by Harold Mcgee. How incredibly interesting. Now we can make some souffles in the new little ramekins I just bought, and we can learn about how and why they work. These are volumes, so they will be references for years and years to come.

-- We discovered this homeschooling life without ever having had to experience the alternative. I am so grateful for that.

-- Kids learn all by themselves when they are interested. It just happens. I was just listening to Maya reading to Nick in the other room. Awesome.

-- We found an awesome community here! Everyone I talk to one-on-one has an incredible story to tell.

-- As Eli and I hung out at the little playground while the bigger two were in their adored classes learning things that they want to learn, there was a little girl running around with blue hair. I looked through a window to see a class full of completely engaged teenagers and a teacher with full arm sleeve tattoos. There are babies and teenagers and nursing mothers and people with disabilities and people who look "normal" and people who most certainly don't. I am so grateful to be able to be around such a variety of people.

-- My best friend is pregnant! Complete awesomeness.

-- I get to go to Mexico next month. What an awesome opportunity.

-- I have a cousin who homeschools her kids, and she is funny and intelligent and full of love, and she wants to have a craft day with us! Hooray.

-- I am learning to knit, and during the knitting club that Maya turned out to be not so interested in, I get to chat with a really cool woman while I work on a knitting project. And the kids are all happily engaged.

-- I truly love my family.

-- After the kids' classes today, they wanted to stay and play for a couple of hours! New friends, great weather, wonderful.

First day of classes

Today we were all very excited for the first day of classes!

It occurred to me this morning that I hadn't paid any materials fee for the knitting club which must mean that we were supposed to bring materials. Crap. Luckily it wasn't an early start and we had plenty of time to make it to Michael's (craft store) for some knitting needles and yarn.

Maya wasn't quite sure what she wanted to work on - she decided she would just sort of get started and see where it took her. But she very quickly realized that knitting was going to be a lot harder than she had thought, so after a couple of minutes I sat knitting a small blanket for her doll Pearl, and she and Eli were off playing. I was actually quite pleased with that state of affairs. I would love to be an awesome knitter, make hats and scarves and gloves and blankets and stuff. So we'll continue to go and I'll continue to knit while the kids play. Or maybe I should show Maya how to finger crochet. Or maybe giant needles?

Meanwhile, Nate was in his first cooking class. It was an introductory affair, so it was in a classroom instead of the kitchen. They talked about kitchen safety and stuff, and they did some chopping to make a fruit salad to share. I look forward to seeing what else they'll get up to. He absolutely loved it and is so excited for more.

In the afternoon, Nate went to an organic gardening class. It is aimed at people of all ages, Nate's age up to adults. It was very hands on - they harvested some veggies and seeds, cleaned up some garden beds, and did a lot of talking in the classroom as well. He was soil-smeared and happy afterward. He told me all about saving bean seeds to plant the following spring.

During gardening, Maya and Eli had "Animal Junction", a song and storytime thing. The theme was bears, and they read some stories, sang a song, made a puppet, played a game, and went on a "bear hunt" around the campus. Eli was asleep in the Ergo on my back when we got there, but when he woke up he was really excited to join in. They were adorable.

So it was a hit! Tomorrow Nate has chess club and Maya has a science class, and they are looking forward to those. They're looking forward to everything, otherwise I wouldn't have signed them up!

It struck me when we got home just how much time there is in a day when you aren't filling it up with busy work (like school). After their morning classes, they wanted to stop at the playground on the way home (we walk right by it). We had 2 1/2 hours until the next classes, and the only thing we had to do was have lunch at some point in there. Plenty of time for the playground, and we were there for over an hour (and I was able to spend some of that working on Pearl's blanket). They have played for literally hours today (mostly Legos). Now they are watching a DVD. We had a long, leisurely pancake breakfast. We even took a trip to the craft store. There is so much time in a day.

Well, we're off to celebrate a wonderful day by getting some burgers with Grammy!

Lego table

Check out our new lego table!!



We bought the table at Goodwill for $5.00, and a bunch of legos from eBay. It is very strong and sturdy, as illustrated by my boys:



Maya and I painted it, Nick and I glued the lego base boards to the top, and voila!



They absolutely love it.

What if

What if all of the people born on this planet were born naturally? Not cut or pulled or vacuumed out, not born drugged to a drugged mother. What if they were given every chance to bond with each other, in love and peace, without the harsh lights and sounds and interventions of the "experts" in the room? What if new mothers were left to trust their own intuition and the knowledge of the women who they trust to support them through the process rather than being undermined at every turn? What if Birth wasn't Big Business?

What if all babies were allowed to consume the food that nature intended for them rather than a synthetic substitute? What if their bodies were made up of what they *should* be made up of? And their brains?

What if society didn't tell us that children were better off stuck in rooms full of other children the same age all day? What if everyone suddenly realized that children learn from their surroundings, and when their surroundings are children with similar life experience they aren't going to learn much? What if it was normal to stay in your community, surrounded by a wide variety of people you love, and know that they want you to be there? And to the same end, what if we actually respected, learned from and integrated the elderly members of our society instead of sending them away to be with other old people?

What if we still lived in villages full of people who genuinely care about each other and see it as their duty to look out for one another?

What if we didn't grow up in a patronizing system of punishments and rewards? What if we were encouraged to trust our own intrinsic sense of "right"? Would people, perhaps, take more responsibility for their actions and their place in society? While we're thinking that society needs to have governance on every aspect of our lives to maintain order, is it possible that that need is only there because we are trained not to be trusted from birth? Mustn't it be confusing to get a reward for a normal bodily function like going to the bathroom? Isn't it strange to turn a trip to the bathroom into a privilege rather than a right?

What if we were all encouraged to follow our talents and dreams, no matter what? Can you imagine how different your life might be? What if the 12+ years of our lives we spend at school were spent living and learning and being free rather than having to switch on and off your interest at the sound of the bell? What if we were encouraged to question everything rather than to blindly accept it? What if we were taught to *think* instead of *obey*?

I want jeans and chucks.

Our stuff still hasn't arrived from Australia.

When we sent it, the estimate was 10-14 weeks. 14 weeks would have been mid-end July. At the end of July we called the moving company, and they told us that the boat was scheduled to arrive on September 9th.

Now apparently it is supposed to arrive on the 16th. Then it goes through customs. Then it gets sent to the moving company's warehouse to be separated into the different shipments. Then the trucks come and take them to their relevant warehouses. Then they call us to set up a time to deliver our stuff from the warehouse to us. I'm thinking we're not going to have our stuff for a solid 3 more weeks.

I miss my clothes. I know, it sounds silly, but I do. I miss having jeans that fit properly; this $1.50 pair that I bought here has worked well, but they are too baggy and too short, not the most flattering combination. I miss my Converse All-Stars. I miss having a bit of variety - we're still living with the clothes that we chose to travel around Australia with back in December when we packed all of our stuff up, with the addition of a few things we have had to pick up along the way (like neither of us had any long pants except for my eccentric fisherman pants, and mercifully my friend Mary handed me down two belts to hold up my ill-fitting jeans).

We packed for an Aussie summer and then an Oregon one, and now we are heading right into autumn much chillier and wetter than we're used to. I want the kids' gumboots and Nate's raincoat and our umbrella. And shoes that aren't flip-flops or trainers.

I want my stuff.

My court experience

I may or may not have mentioned that I recently got a $287 ticket for rolling through a stop sign.

I was leaving a friend's house, driving through an area I know like the back of my hand. I approached an intersection, came to a *pause* at the stop sign, saw that there were no cars coming (or pedestrians, or bicyclists, or horse-drawn carriages), and turned right, continuing on my way. I was very surprised to see the flashing lights of a motorcycle cop behind me, even more surprised when he told me that I hadn't come to a complete stop (there was nobody around! Except for him, parked incognito across the street, waiting for someone to make the mistake I had made), and completely shocked when he wrote me a ticket. Then immediately I was angry. He said himself that I hadn't been driving recklessly (THERE WAS NOBODY ELSE AROUND!), so I couldn't understand the point of giving me a ticket. Other than the revenue. And that's why I was mad.

So I opted to go to court. I have a clean driving record after all, and I wanted this infraction off of my record so that it wouldn't affect my insurance rates. Plus I felt that I was acting in the *spirit* (if not to the letter) of the law - I had proceeded safely through the intersection. My brain works quickly enough to see that a street is abandoned without coming to a full 3-second stop. Surely the laws were written to keep people safe, right? Right??

I've never been to court before, so I didn't know what to expect. I checked in at reception and quickly realized that I was one of many people that would be pleading their cases at 4:00. I picked up a "Rights and Responsibilities" handout to read, as directed, and had a seat in the courtroom.

The handout explained that I could plead "Not Guilty" if I thought I wasn't, and this would lead to a hearing at a later date. I could plead "Guilty" if I was admitting guilt, or I could plead "No Contest" if I didn't want to contest the charge or go to hearing on the matter, but the outcome would be the same as a guilty plea. The judge explained to everyone as he entered the courtroom that he only had the power to reduce the fines by up to 25% in most cases, or if we had a clean record he could offer us a traffic class which would have fees of its own, but then the ticket would be dismissed.

On a side note, Nick brought up the excellent point that people with otherwise clean driving records probably aren't the ones that could benefit from a defensive driving class. If I haven't had a ticket in over 10 years, I'm probably doing a pretty decent job. Isn't it the people that get tickets all the time who need to take that class? I mean, if our aim is for safer roads and all?

The judge began calling us up in the order that we had checked in. What's your plea? Do you have anything you want to say? Each matter was over very quickly (except for the poor Vietnamese guy who wasn't sure what he had done wrong, but was happy to just accept the cop's version of events and settle the matter today so he wouldn't have to come back with an official interpreter). Almost everyone that was called before me had a clean record, and so most people happily took the traffic school.

My turn. He read me my charge, Failure to Obey a Traffic Control Device. What's your plea? Me: No Contest. He asked me what happened, and I explained that I had rolled through a stop sign, there was nobody else around, and how I was very surprised to have gotten a ticket when the officer himself said that I hadn't been driving recklessly. He said in a somewhat empathetic way, "Yeah, they'll do that. Your record is clean. Do you want traffic school?" The inner me wanted to go off about the fairness of the ticket: Weren't these laws designed to make the roads safer? Does it make sense to punish someone for not following the letter of the law if nobody was put in danger? This is really just a money spinner, isn't it? Who do I talk to about all of *this* stuff?

But instead of saying any of that, I replied, "Well, not particularly, but if that's my best option I'll take it." Snickers from the people behind me. He assured me that it was my best option. And so I thought oh well, I didn't make a point today, I was just part of the machine. I'll pay the maybe $40 for traffic school (that's what Nick had to pay for his "seatbelt class"), my record will be clean, and I'll just shut up and leave. I went to wait in the line for the clerk to give me my traffic school information. She did just that ($40, as expected), and she also gave me an invoice for court fees - $150, to be paid at reception on my way out.

$150. Ah. I see.

And what have I learned from this experience? I have learned to watch my back. I have learned that the officers who are supposedly there to serve and protect are actually making an opportunistic mint off of safe drivers who make mistakes. My focus is no longer solely on the road, the cars around me, and being a safe driver. I am watching the rear view mirror for flashing lights.

Here are some fun facts about traffic tickets that I got from this website:

Every year, 34 million speeding tickets are issued in the US. That's 65 per minute.

These tickets (and this is just *speeding* tickets, not rolling through stop signs or "making an illegal turn" like that Vietnamese dude) generate $5.1 billion in revenue per year.

According to research, a 10% drop in a city's economic growth results in a 6.4% *increase* in tickets issued.

Due to rate increases, insurance companies profit as well, to the tune of $10.2 *billion*.

And why is this ok?

Albert Einstein

You know what I learned today? Albert Einstein failed the entrance exam to a Polytechnical Institute in Zürich because, despite exceptional marks in physics and math, he didn't score high enough in the language and arts sections. He clearly wasn't well rounded enough. For what? For school. In life, he seemed to do just fine for himself.

Valedictorian speaks out

A friend posted a link to this valedictorian speech and it is worth watching. And her blog is worth checking out too.



If that doesn't work, here's the link

And here's her blog

Balance

I'm kind of struggling right now with finding a balance between meeting my children's intellectual needs and meeting my own. I am completely aware that my growth is vital for theirs, and that seeing me interested in learning is an important social cue to instill their own interests in learning.

I'm an all-in kind of person. I get slightly obsessive about subjects and people that I find interesting and inspiring. You read my current book list, right? THAT'S what I'm into right now, and I could spend 12 hours today reading and it wouldn't be enough for me. But it would be far too much for my children, and this whole deschooling/unschooling issue is something that I can only share with them to a certain degree. When my passion (which is a much more acceptable word than obsession) was for food (the health issues, the politics, the creative and social implications), that's something I talked about all the time. I shared what I learned, and it benefited them, completely.

And of course I talk about unschooling and why I think it's important and what I think the problems with the institution of school are (not education, but *school* - it's a very important distinction).

The thing is, they aren't schooled. They haven't had their spirits broken. They can't feel the same kind of passion for the subject that I can, because they are coming from a completely different place. So while all of this is so very important for me, it's a non-issue for them. Of course, the fact that I grow from it is invaluable to them, so I need to continue to absorb everything I can.

So while I'm reading and blogging and learning and growing, they are off doing their own thing. Sometimes, a lot of times, that's perfect. I am just trying to find that discipline within myself to be able to stop what I'm doing and completely shift the focus to them when they need me, and not feel like my needs are being blighted.

If only I didn't need sleep.

Teenaged Me

I so could have just fallen asleep in the sauna at the gym if it weren't for the dripping sweat feeling like bugs crawling all over me.

On the drive home, I considered whether or not Teenaged Me would like the me that I am now.

Teenaged Me was quick to snap-judge, so I'm not so sure she could get past the minivan. She was, however, intrigued by the idea that an extraordinary brain could be hiding inside an otherwise average-seeming person, and I like to think I might have that going for me. She too had a very healthy opinion of herself.

Strangely, I can't remember what Teenaged Me thought she might be doing as an adult, like, for a living. I think she still thought that you just kind of enter the workforce and be a worker bee if that's the class you were born into, unless you experienced some crazy, freak luck. I didn't realize until very recently that there are other ways to survive besides the full-time job that you don't particularly like. I thought that a job was a job. It didn't occur to me that there was an option to actually do what fulfills you. I'm sure Teenaged Me would have been suitably impressed by my baking company in Sydney. It was small, but it was *mine* and I didn't compromise anything.

Teenaged Me didn't really get adults though. She couldn't relate to them. So I'm sure she would have been distant and respectful and not really cared one way or the other.

Book list

I've kind of overdone it with the whole book reservation thing. No biggie though, library books are free. And renewable. And re-check-out-able.

Here's what I've got now:

The Teenage Liberation Handbook by Grace Llewellyn. I started this quite awhile ago, but then I got distracted by The Red Tent and Committed. I read this awesome excerpt this morning:

The way our society is set up now, something's got to prevent visionary experience. Otherwise, ninety percent of the American monoculture would shatter. People who are fully and permanently awakened to the wildness and beauty in and around them make lousy wage-slaves. On the other hand, people who are not distracted by a wellspring of spiritual and sexual yearnings can assemble clock radios or automobiles very quickly, or focus their intellects on monthly sales charts.

Sorry, children of mine, I am not giving you the upbringing you are going to need in order to while your lives away in soul-sucking, mind-numbing jobs.

Here are the other books in my pile:

Instead of Education by John Holt
Dumbing Us Down by John Taylor Gatto
Teach Your Own by Holt and Pat Farenga
How Children Learn by Holt
A Different Kind of Teacher by Gatto

Nate is working through (with help) two of the Calvin and Hobbes books he got from the library. There are eight more waiting to be picked up. Plus Cosmos by Carl Sagan. So much information!

Committed (book review, sort of)

I just finished Committed, Elizabeth Gilbert's follow up to Eat, Pray, Love. I was excited to read it because I recently saw the movie, fell in love with the Brazilian character, and had to find out what happened. So I did. And eh, it was ok. The story was very familiar to me - relationship with foreign-born dude, necessity to marry in order to secure resident visa for said dude. The book is mostly an anthropological study of marriage and the author's attempts to make peace with the institution since she was going to have to go through with it in order to stay with the man she loved. She was reaching for something that would let her give herself permission to marry, but she admitted that she was reaching which made the whole thing bearable.

My favorite part was her "prenuptial informed consent release" - the list of her top 5 character flaws, "just so I would be certain he had been fairly warned." I loved them because I could have written the first two and a half myself if I was, you know, eloquent. Here they are:

1. I think very highly of my own opinion. I generally believe that I know best how everyone in the world should be living their lives- and you, most of all, will be the victim of this.
2. I require an amount of devotional attention that would have made Marie Antoinette blush.
3. I have far more enthusiasm in life than I have actual energy. In my excitement, I routinely take on more than I can physically or emotionally handle, which causes me to break down in quite predictable displays of dramatic exhaustion. You will be the one burdened with the job of mopping me up every time I've overextended myself and then fallen apart. This will be unbelievably tedious. I apologize in advance.
4. I am openly prideful, secretly judgmental, and cowardly in conflict. All these things collude at times and turn me into a big fat liar.
5. And my most dishonorable fault of all: Though it takes me a long while to get to this point, the moment I have decided that somebody is unforgivable, that person will very likely remain unforgiven for life- all too often cut off forever, without fair warning, explanation, or another chance.

While she was highly ashamed of these traits, I find the first two and a half (you know, the ones that apply to me) to be quite charming. Go figure. I do tend to be very forgiving, even of my own "flaws". I am very impressed by the notion of acknowledging and addressing one's flaws. It's admirable stuff.

All in all, it was a decent read. Some of the marriage history stuff was interesting. Near the end, she goes into depth about the fundamentally subversive nature of marriage - the state can never control a relationship based on private intimacy which is why extreme leaderships (cults, communists, slave owners) have historically attacked personal relationships. She found solace in this, the idea that even though she and her partner were more or less being forced by the government to marry, it was by nature a subversive act. In my opinion, all of the justifications are unnecessary. You do what you gotta do, and if what you gotta do involves having your relationship recognized by the state, more power to you.

¡México!

Thanks to my bestie Melissa for planning her wedding next month in Playa Del Carmen, Mexico. I'm making my travel arrangements. Mine. My own. I'm going solo. It is so insanely exciting.

My last (and only) solo international flight was in 2002 when I flew home from Australia knocked up. I didn't yet appreciate what a treat it is to make that kind of flight by oneself. Since then I have made 9 round trip overseas flights, all of them with at least one child. One trip to America I even did as a solo parent with three kids, aged 6, 3 and 17 months. Whoever is handing out the awards for superhuman accomplishments missed me on that one.

So the prospect of going to Mexico without children feels so... free. Adult. Independent. I only feel a teeny tiny bit guilty because I'll only be gone for a few days. It will be my first time away from Eli, but I have done the separation thing before; when I came home to help my mom through her chemo, I spent a month away from Nate and Maya - she was only two months older than Eli will be - so three nights doesn't seem like quite such a big deal.

I only just looked at the map this morning to see where Playa Del Carmen is exactly. I had no idea. Depending on who you ask, it is a 40-60 minute drive from Cancún. The closest capital city is Havana, and it is only about 200 miles away from the Belize border. Three hours away is Chichén-Itzá, the spectacular Mayan ruins. I kind of feel like - how can I just go for a few days when there is so much to be explored? I'm thinking I'll have to get to Chichén-Itzá, even if it means spending an extra day. How could I not? I mean, it'll just be me. One backpack, one bottle of water. Nobody else's capacity for hiking or sightseeing longevity to take into consideration.

No checked baggage. No carseats. No games and toys and children's books. No complaining. No boredom. Ahhh, I could get used to that kind of traveling.

Fragile

I had a good run there as a parent. Today I'm struggling though. I just had a tearful "can't we all just get along" breakdown. I'm out-energized today. I feel a severe lack of serenity. I'm surrounded by toys and things and yells and screams and bickering and laughter and energy and I want to be in a dark, quiet hole. All morning I have found myself putting things away, vacuuming, making beds, doing dishes, getting things in order, hoping that the order will penetrate through to my mind. I wonder why sometimes my family and the love that lives in this house is enough for me, and sometimes I feel so lonely, like none of it can find a way through, it can't penetrate this bubble.

And I *know* that my music choices aren't helping. I wonder why I do this to myself. I was the 10 year old kid who made myself depressing mix tapes so that when I was feeling down I could keep myself there, really wallow in it. I like to think that I'm not a particularly dramatic person (outwardly at least) but that is certainly dramatic behavior. Maybe I am supposed to be living in a time full of drama, and since I don't I find myself making my own personal drama. I try to keep it to myself, but I gave my kids a heaping portion this morning.

I am so lucky, though, that my kids get me. They love me anyway. I have created my own peaceful space downstairs this morning, and they are upstairs for the time being. Nate just came down to give me a hug and then went back up. If we were still in that motorhome, I would have had to go walkabout today, but we're in a house with spaces for people to be alone when they need to. I like that.

Okay. Emotions processed. Feeling better. Calmer.

I just read back the first line of this blog post and had to have a bit of a laugh at myself. Dramatic much?

Writing

I was on a roll there. Now it's gone.

It's funny, I've never been much of a writer. Well that's not true. I've always been a prolific writer, but a very self-critical one. This is why none of my journals from before I moved to Australia still exist - I found them, read them and was so mortified by the complete rubbish they contained that I had to destroy them. Bummer. I'm sure I'd find them all really interesting now.

In high school English classes, I found the writing really hard because I was such a perfectionist. Each reading, I would make multiple insignificant changes and feel such relief, like thank goodness I didn't turn it in in that state, that would have been so embarrassing. Then I'd read through "one last time" and find more changes, and more, and more, and never really got to a point where I felt completely satisfied with my work. And then I'd get an A+ and wonder if I was too pedantic or if my teacher wasn't paying close enough attention.

I'm not sure what changed really. I never would have been able to write a blog back then. I spent a lot of Nate's early years on parenting forums, and in the beginning it would take me a ridiculously long time to write a simple post. I would read and re-read and wonder, does this make me sound smug? permissive? strict? hypocritical? judgmental? Regardless of my efforts, I have still been misunderstood so many times. Maybe I have learned that all of the proof-reading doesn't really help me avoid being seen the way I'm going to be seen. People see what they want to see, or what they need to see to keep their stories flowing.

Really, it's a whole lot easier to just write and not give a fuck what people are going to think. I need to write. I can see me in the future (because there are less distractions in the future), sitting in front of this computer, processing every thought that goes through my head. I feel like the more I write, the more material I have. I swear, people, there's so much atrophied brain in here. Parenting does wonders for the heart and for the soul, but it somehow manages to suck away my intelligence. Definitely my memory has suffered. And my focus. But every time I write, my brain wakes up a little bit.

To writing.