I have a love/hate relationship with the library.
I love the access to free books, free kid’s classes, the community there.
I may owe them 100000233333340004040404.00 dollars in overdue fees because I CANT EVER RETURN THINGS ON TIME.
And when I take my kid, she likes to play with the computer.
Mine is the kid, at the library, filled with books, trying to get Dora to pop little bubbles floating across the freaking screen.
I read to my child.
I’m conflicted in the rejoicing of this weather as I’m just waiting for my eyes to swell up like Golum and for my nose to be a perpetual Rudolph but so far, they haven’t.
My kid is currently sitting on the t.v. stand with her face pressed up against the screen, mouthing everything Mickey Mouse is saying. Hot dog. I’m an awesome parent. I haven’t even fed her breakfast yet. The idea of scrambling an egg screams, “too much effort”. Wow. I have serious Monday problems.
I pour over my little seedling packets like some women do their jewelry. My husband turned over our garden yesterday and I’ve already had deep dreams about dangling cucumber vines, red current tomatoes and jeweled eggplants. Come on. My backyard may not be big enough to park a mini cooper, but I WILL GROW A GARDEN. Rich had to talk me out of chickens. For now, people. For now.
Sometimes I fantasize about buying a whole block where all of my friends and family could live, so when my kid wakes up at 6 and wants to go blow bubbles outside before I’ve brushed my teeth all I’d have to do is open the door and tell her to find someone awake to play with. Until I think about how weird and cultish it sounds. I assure you, it’s purely for nothing other than selfish reasons. No koolaid involved.
I’ve been walking around with this huge weighty responsibility that my kid can now grasp things of importance like the resurrection, social justice and the Gap Outlet sale. AHHHHHHHHH. How do I teach her all of these things?
My Wellies died this year. They were perfect and yellow and there’s a hole so big in the sole that to keep them would be a defamation of their character. My heart is deeply broken and I feel nearly adulterous that I’ve already fantasized about a new hunter green pair. Too soon. Too soon.
I have avoided buying jeans for going on two years and there is a tiny tear along the inseam. If I don’t sit down, bend over or make any sudden movement, I am positive they will last another year.
I am unsure why I have not figured out a way to become independently wealthy. I scratch my head with confusion every Monday. After all the brainstorming effort I put into it, I really should have figured it out by now.
My kid has requested siblings. Two of them, specifically. One boy, one girl. I told her I was not in charge of the decision making of what child comes to Earth to live with us. She disagrees. We are at a stalemate. She is convinced I am holding out on her.
I wrote a check for pre-school this week. That’s what people do. They write checks for preschool and pay credit card bills and forget to get their car inspected when it was due in February. FEBRUARY. I should really get on that.
I am reading all of Willa Cather right now and I love her. The end.