The times, they are a-same-ing, too

When you live in a too-small house with a 2.5 years old boy (ALL boy, ALL Terrifying Two, ALL the time), his 7 (going on 25) years old sister who loves girl STUFF, their 9 years old soccer brother (ALL middle brother ALL the time), and their teenaged brother (“So you think you can cook!  Uh, turn off the burner after, dude!”) — AND with their very creative artistic mom who all but hovers over the washing machine when not arting or doing someone’s hair and backpacks for tomorrow and homework — you not only re-think your own overly-sphincter’d life which you imposed on so many, you learn patience — almost by default. (“Lighten up, lady — or die!”)

See there? I complained POSITIVELY. That’s huge! Or, “I’m good enough, I’m smart enough, and doggone it, people like me (more than they did last year)!” It’s very hard to keep the chaos contained, to keep disorganization to a minimum, here.  Very, very hard — but we’re making progress. (The crumb-and-clutter mice are starting to frown.)

Until we are magical indeed, though, there are moments upon moments when nothing could surpass 3 generations living together.

The littlest one sent his mom downstairs one day for a new spoon. She was roaring behind her covered mouth as she said low, “He said, ‘Dis ‘poon not workin!’ — but he’s just low on cereal in his bowl!”

And.. when some uncensored peer tries to put more than the fear of God into one of the middle kids about the ‘Momo’-type things, there are two generations who can and will nay-nay it. Adequately!

The teen grandson is hilarious. Heading out to work before he arrived one day, I signed a snack-note to him, “Love, G-ma.” He first read it as “Love, 6-mix” and really thought I was going for a cool rap name. Now, when it’s time for him to bring his phone downstairs for the night, 6-mix texts him: “Shanie B-zone, it’s TIME!” He is very gracious with such a weirdo grandma — possibly not simply because it nets him a hot grilled cheese sandwich just moments after exiting the school bus every day.

We are a nuts household. Just nuts. DH is the hold-out. He gets frustrated and starts moving papers, toys, clothes (all but living things) on the floor with his feet. Fortunately, though, he’s an old Boy Scout/Civil Engineer soul and gets lost dreaming of badges to earn and culverts to create (in a manner of speaking) and soon finds things to do that please/challenge-please him greatly.

OR he goes to bed. Like I do. 😀 When the (evening) going gets tough — loud, louder, loudest — the (ancient) tough go for the pillow!


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Sunfish noises

She laid there in the semi-darkness (which she supposed others might call semi-lightness) and thought about it all, now. She listened to the voices on the other side of the door. Little one, big one. Couldn’t make out what they were saying, but it had all been said and done 5 million times anyway, hadn’t it?

Life had been full of voices. It’s why she liked fishing, she supposed, and being completely underwater. Fishinfolk did not arrive at the water with bait in order to converse. That all but faux connection did not break through the sacred salted air.  Their eyes spoke, their pointing, their smiles, their laboring to haul in a real catch, their nch of disgust when they caught up on the seaweed, about to lose all tackle, or the sigh to have hauled in a freeloading crab who somehow knew he’d be thrown back.

Overall, hers had been a pretty good life, but could she say that of others’ whose lives were supposed to be blessed by hers, even today? Many of them did, but could she say so?

There would be no blessing of others via any action that she knew of, today. She was tired. She hadn’t thought about blessing anyone for a long time.

However, they’d just come back from a store — one of them had received gift money simply because, and had gone out shopping. Indeed, one of them would want to show her the purchases, to double the joy of plentitude. There would be at least one new children’s outfit in those bags, and coloring books, and new, papered, unbroken crayons for starting over, starting over, starting over..

She hauled herself off the bed like a big, caught sunfish, removed the deadly hook, and went out to ooh and ahh right away, not later.


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