Tag Archives: parenting

Half A Person

Quiet desperation beats vocal frustration any day in my book. My book is rather thin at the moment, however, so your mileage may vary. Which is why I recommend properly inflated tires. And a hat. I should still be working, but I am waiting for the din above me to quiet. The boy-child is screaming in terror or pain, the girl-child screaming in rage. Stomping, pounding footsteps, bits of my calm slipping away in the swirl of angry emotions. Now would be a good time for a yell. Instead I sit in silence and try to count to three. Maybe it’s time for a beer break?

Jesus Carp on a crapsicle, I need to clean my office. I thought I’d get to it this weekend. Instead, I did something else. I’m not sure what at this point. Stayed up too late. Went out on the wrong night (yes, there is a wrong night and a right night for weekends in Spokane. Apparently the second-largest city in Washington can only afford decent night-life on Fridays). Didn’t finish putting up barbeque stuff. The screaming is done; the only sound now the tinny sound of Journey being played on the boy-child’s mp3 speakers. How sad that the modern-day ghetto-blaster is only four inches across. Sadder still is that it probably sounds better than anything back in my day. Fuck, that sounds like an old person comment, doesn’t it? Oh well — tomorrow I can spend the afternoon yelling at squirrels.

It’s Monday Again?

It’s Monday and I have two flatulent dogs at my feet. Yes, this is the good life. It could only get better if my kids were Morans.

Spring is here and I’ve been busy. My weed garden is coming along splendidly, and the boy-child has almost figured out what NOT to mow over. Speaking of boy children, his shoes fell apart this weekend. I’m not sure how, exactly, but he asked for his new shoes this morning. Apparently Jennie knew about this, but we chose to spend a lazy Sunday watching movies and swapping bunkbeds. So the boy is at school in shoes with no soles. Are we awesome parents, or what? Okay, don’t answer that.

So, five more days of school for the boy-child and eight more days of school for the girl-child. You’d think by now that they would have figured out to check for clothes sometime before it was time to head off for school. And you’d be wrong. To be fair, I haven’t suggested that they set out their clothes the night before for almost three days now, and usually only make the suggestion twice a week or so. Next year, when the girl-child is required to keep an organizer, is going to be so much fun! One more thing to frantically search for in the mornings.