for me, blogging has become inconvenient lately.

This morning a friend of mine told me he thought I should write (or write more?) and I felt kinda lame about it.  To me, that sounded like telling a fish they should swim.

He called me "a writer" which I took well to heart because, that's generally how I identify, if we're using those vocationalish or action labels.  But, because I don't publish or often write for money, it's hard to claim that title.  However, he saw it and he called it and I was blown away.

I wanted to remind him of past conversations when I told him I want to write as a source of income.  I wanted to remind him that his response was mainly comprised of reasons it would be difficult and why I shouldn't get my hopes up.

Usually when I smell an I-told-you-so moment I'm pretty quick to pounce (partly because it helps the logic flow in my mind...it almost looks like repairing a bridge or re-paving a road) but this time I'm glad I forwent the opportunity.  He was giving me a solid evaluation, sounding intentional and sincere and I can re-pave a road without announcing it to the county.



I'm sitting in the kitchen of the house where I [work] eating the nachos I couldn't finish yesterday.  There's dishes on the counter that I was strictly instructed not to touch and I can hear them calling me. It is a real struggle.  Part of the reason I sat to blog was because I needed something to keep my mind off the dinnerware.

Most days he doesn't mind.  He doesn't say anything or he says thanks but some days it's a bigger deal that I don't do them.  I'm working on respecting the line (a line that is incosistent and that I don't understand).

The boys will be home soon.  I like them both very much and I hope they've had a good day.  B was told this morning that an unfinished lunch will be finished on the timeout chair at home.  I don't believe you that you don't have time to eat.  I also don't understand how you make it through the day on one snack. 

The timeout lunch was my idea which I cleared with Dad last night.  He was so spent and wrapped up emotionally in his day that my brief aside met easy agreement.  "Yeah, that sounds fine," with a tired nod and a mild whatever you think implication.

Aaaand they're home. I love these kids.*

B looked super sad and quite surprised when I told him about the chair this morning.  But, he obvio understood because I was just shown an empty lunch bag.

I'm happy we're at the point now where I can still be in the kitchen typing while they're in the living room TV-ing and game-ing and they won't come after me. I won't stay out here because I wasn't hired to be a security camera but I like that we can have a bit of separate time.

Right about now is when I start looking forward to Dad coming home.  Oops.  J just came looking for me.  I'd better go.

*This is the first time I've said this.  It just popped out after our brief chat about their day as they bustled in the door, and right into my personal space, all rosy-cheeked and precious.