Sheep: Take The Night Off

Our office at our house is down stairs, disorganized, and quickly become a 'catch all' room for miscellaneous objects I don't necessary feel like giving the time to find a more appropriate place for. So when I write it's sometimes in the quiet of the morning or during the lulls of the day, but mostly it's when the house is finally still and today is ready to turn into tomorrow.

Without sitting at my desk, in a desk chair, no walls of formality surrounding me, there is little self structure at this point. The self composure of playing the day's game is gone and I'm found writing during the time and in the places where on every other night, I'm mind-winding through the day, reflecting on it's successes and briefly recognizing it's failures. Where at the same time there is so much to tell and yet so little.

But tonight, I start, back space, start again, stutter, stammer, snap my knuckles, back space, start again, stretch my neck, stammer some more, only to end up rubbing my eyes so deep and hard it leads me into a yawn. I'm tired, disappointed in myself for letting outside influences weigh my shoulders, and feeling withdrawn and reserved for no other reason than lack of heart for anything more.

So here I start again.
I could tell you my ambitions are low, my thoughts scattered, and my tolerance faltered. I should tell you that my patience is worn, my attitude vulnerable, and mind restless. A vent of the week's challenges and the results of my machete like approach to the thick brush of parenting lately, would do me some good, but even that will take more anything from my reservoir of nothing.

Exhaustedly restless….a time I'm sure would be perfect for counting sheep, but in my less than flattering mood I would want to shave everyone in that perfectly wooly, fluffy, flock  or be sure the imaginary fence I would make them jump over, be too high for their legs to clear. This is the mood I'm in people, so I will take pity on those sheep tonight and let them harvest in their fields in peace…..(tonight)

Instead I will tell you about Calvin's hair cut. How he insisted Joey go first and M&M bribery. How he said his "'air cut 'urt", then trying to conceal the smirks while looking at himself in the mirror. How like every hair cut before, he's most proud to strut around showing it off after.

How on Monday's holiday we did a whole lot of nothing and loved every minute of it. Building a sheet fort and watching TV made the day extra special although we only got out of Sunday's pajamas long enough to put Monday night's on.


And if you're not aware by now, how much I love little bodies, in big tubs, getting lost in bubbles, please allow me to remind you. Mischievous eyes, only mean mischievous things, when harbored inside the most mischievous boys.



I should tell you about how kickball days, are big days in this house. Is the note written? Are extra shoes packed? Most importantly of all, are the best sliding pants worn? Because there is guaranteed to be sliding… and pretty damn good sliding at that…



As I feel my eye lids grow heavy and the tension in my shoulders relax, I can't help but think about how lucky my boys are to have each other as best friends, though they wont realize they are friends, until many year down the road, I know, and will gladly remind them, they have always been.



The night is black, a storm is coming, and my mood is dull, I surrender, and am now eager to put this day to rest. I know this mood wont last, today is one of few, and tomorrow will be better, because I'll once again soak in the brightness that will shine so pure, so bright, so true. The innocents that shines, its excitement, mischief, and love for life that pours steadfast, in the colors of blue, brown, and green, so easily putting into perspective the challenges of my day.