Today, Problemchildbride turns one whole fortnight old. So far it has been fun and kind of soothing. Whatever it is that builds up when you’re home with small children all day, is being let out. Call it Understimulation of the Grown-Up Brain Parts, Inflammation of the Patience Gland or just call it Aaaaaaaaaaagggghhhh! Whatever it is, it’s on the wane and figuring out my way in the blogosphere has helped.

I don’t mean to complain. I like my life and I love to stay home with the girls but, just to have a little balance to a day otherwise filled with scraped knees, cleaning up spilled paint and the like, cooking, arbitrating complicated Lego ownership issues and then nearly breaking an ankle on the same abandoned Lego 3 minutes later, is a welcome development.

Jenn. of “Breed ‘Em and Weep” commented on my blog! This is some serious blog starpower, right here in my commentary box! I thoroughly recommend checking her site out – the link is over there —> on the right. Her writing is funny and beautiful and she is actually proper – a real screenwriter and everything. If my blog is the pre-school Christmas play, her’s is a sold-out production on Broadway with cream and gold programs and ladies in pearls and Manolos. She’s big-time. And it is very, very cool that she visited my spindly outer arm of the blogging Milky Way. I’ll probably show off about it insufferably for the next wee while but I’ll warn you in advance when I do.

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Dave is out of town ’til Wednesday. He left for Minnesota this morning. If he’s away for less than a week it doesn’t really bother me at all. The only thing I do differently is to sleep with a brass fish under the pillow. However, if it came to it, and I had to bash a burgling perp. over the head, with the dorsal fin on that thing, I would almost certainly be up on murder charges. The perp’s well-to-do-family (he would most probably (have been) a preppy perp. acting out in a “cry for help” fashion, because dying his hair or getting a piercing like other angsty teens would be “too clicheed, dude” for this special boy) where was I? Oh yes, his wealthy, old money family would hire a clever lawyer and the jury convict me. I would then moulder in the California State penitentiary until somebody else sued the brass-fish-making company after suffering a freakish fin-accident, thereby proving that it was poorly designed in the first place with dangerous fin flaws.

In a retrograde judgement, I would then be released straight out into a banner-waving hostile crowd (“Fish Don’t Kill People, People Do!”). By then, my children would have grown up and know me only as a source of deep family shame, never to be spoken of. Then I would probably move on (sadly) with my life by getting lots of cats and wearing huge straw hats even in winter. Children wouldn’t be allowed to talk to me, nor yet beloved pets sniff me. Then I would die. None of it would surprise me in the least.

So, sleeping with a brass fish is probably not worth it in the long run. And besides, if ever we hear an odd noise when Dave is home, it is invariably me who goes on the lonely, breath-holding, torch-snoop, and always, always sans fish.

Any more than a week though and I begin to miss Dave a lot. Things start to feel odd without him and I don’t like it. Once a day on the phone for a quick chat, no longer cuts it, and we’re neither of us great phone people anyway. But this time it’s only for a few days so what in Yahweh’s name am I blethering on about?

I had planned on going to a party tonight to celebrate the 7th birthday of a local bar, but now I think I’ll skip it. There’s a back-log of films that I want to see and Dave doesn’t and now is the time to watch them, while he’s away. Carpe DVDiem!

This entry was posted on Saturday, February 18th, 2006 at 11:03 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.