I really don’t have anything much to post to my blog this week. It really is a lot of pressure to come up with something each week. Well, not a lot of pressure, I mean, it’s not like I will get fired if I don’t post. But, some people who read the blog on a regular basis, ok, well, my sister Emily says she wants regular updated posts, so she is my readership and I aim to please.
I’ve considered using my blog to self-publish my novel…a chapter a week or something like that. Of course, that means I would actually have to finish it,
I have a lot of things I’ve started with the intention of putting them on the blog, but they seem a little too revealing. One in particular is about my mental collapse at age 22. Sure, looking back on that time is amusing, but some people just don’t have a sense of humor about alcohol induced psychotic breaks.
The well this week is dry. I have some ideas mulling around, but it’s just a couple of empty cans rolling around in the back seat. Nothing is well-formed or thought out. But, the week is young and I still have time. Maybe I’ll get it together enough to tell the story of when I moved to NYC with a guy I met in a bar. That’s always a good one.
It is the day after I wrote the above and I still got nothing. So, this week is an easy week and I will get back on track soon.
All is good and well…I am working a lot at that pesky real job and my beautiful 3 year old son is just so much fun to be around right now that I would choose playing in the backyard with him over just about everything else in life. His view of the world is fantastic. The other day, we were looking at a picture of a giraffe and he told me the giraffe looked like pizza. By golly, it does. The spots are the pepperonis and the yellow fur is the cheese.
I am on the road right now and we just video called each other. He said he wanted to get me from the airport right now and it is hard to explain to a toddler that you are 600 miles away and can’t come home until tomorrow night. He kissed the camera and told me he loved me and all was instantly right with the world.
It makes me wonder, did my mother love me this much? I have been thinking about her a lot because the three year anniversary of her death was March 20th. I live a few blocks from the cemetery where she is buried. I popped in to say hello and clean up the flowers. I miss her like I would miss my left arm – I always know she is gone, I just somehow have adapted to her not being there. It gets easier, but it will never be the same.
She would have loved Max. She would have loved that he talks to the characters on TV…even when the TV is off, and that he can count to 10 in Spanish, and that he hides in the same spot every single time we play hide and go seek. And because of that, I think it makes me love him even more. As if that was possible.