The Brawny Guy says, “Have an Extra Strong Halloween.”
This is his last year trick-or-treating. He’s only going because one of his best buddies is a bit younger and wants to uphold their long standing tradition. But, you know it’s time to stop* when you’re bumming your dad’s footwear for your costume. Happy Halloween, everyone. Stay Safe. See you soon.
*or when your mother says, “let’s take some photos” and you just give her that teenager angst look. Yeah, time for YOU to stay home and hand out candy. Good thing you’re living out of a hotel right now, buster!
I’ve been thinking about Mother’s Day a great deal this week. Part of it, is that the dreaded holiday is nearing. Part of it, is finding a card my son wrote to his uncle when he was just 5 (I never mailed it, because Boy Wonder had taped his favorite piece of crayon to it, and I didn’t have the heart to let him part with it.) while I was sorting through old photos. How quickly time passes.
I’m not a fan of the holiday, though I understand Mother’s Day means something to most of you. And I say, “Go, Celebrate.” Just don’t ladle guilt on your children when they don’t live up to your expectations. Because eventually, there will come a time when you are not the center of their universe. That’s a good thing. Embrace it—rejoice in it, you did this! You reared your children to adulthood and autonomy and the ability to be parents themselves.
Usually I save the punch line for last. You know, drag you through a few 1200 words to deliver the goods or at least something that will explain the title.
Yeah, not today.
I watched the season premier of “Sister Wives” tonight and I had an epiphany. I think I might be a blogging polygamist. Why have two blogs when you can have three? I mean, plural works for Kody Brown. It might work for me too. I opened up Evidently and began writing. You can blame the fundamentalist Mormons for what follows.
The time off from this blog was therapeutic. Despite the fact I started another blog within days of turning this one off; my reasons for taking a break stand. I felt a bit hemmed in here. Trapped by my own voice, or lack of it.
Understanding that requires a bit of history. Ok, a lot of history. I’m making up for lost ground after all.
