Wednesday, October 29, 2014

Through the pink

Matt & I have both been working long, intense hours lately, culminating in a not very healthy or productive "discussion" about who has been doing what domestic chores.  Good times!  Then he left for a two week long business trip.

The first day he was gone I overslept by two full hours.  The second day my car wouldn't start.  That night the dishwasher nearly exploded, forcing me to manhandle the much feared circuit breaker box.  As my Gigi liked to say, "That'll learn ya."

Yet in the midst of all the chaos this month, I have been gifted moments of peace.

A rare walk thru the early morning drizzle with my wolf-like puppy.

These two, always.

Even these times.
Actually…. especially these times. 

Buying groceries, a much loathed task, and finding the oysters my Gigi always bought.

My drive home through pink light.

There was also a recent moment when I fled my desk, this stack of paper, and the inane, incessant late Friday chatter of my co-workers.  I walked into the break room just as the rainy clouds parted and the fridge stopped humming.  The sudden sun and silence were damn near spiritual.

It is a mystery to me why these moments come - what slight shift in the brain chemistry allows me to find beauty in fleeting moments while other days I'm left gritting my teeth and slurping coffee.  Perhaps I'm being too cynical in assuming it is chemical, and should just be grateful my cold, old heart can still find magic in the world.  Even on the odd day.  

Friday, October 3, 2014

It's a Glamorous Life

File this under the cover of "families with special needs - they're just like everyone else!"

(Otherwise known as a cheater post)

This morning the odd little old lady with whom I'd had an appointment last night called and scolded me for forgetting it.  Then I learned my laid back boss is leaving and my work load will be doubling.  I got home an hour after I was supposed to tonight and my adorable father in law didn't say anything but he looked tired and quickly left.  The hamburger was still frozen so I popped in a pizza except The Girl doesn't like pizza any more (insert wildly inappropriate genetic joke about falling too far from the tree) and she asked for spaghetti via Proloquo instead.  I am powerless to resist when she uses Proloquo spontaneously.  Except we don't have spaghetti and given the choice between poop-brown Extra Fiber! Penne and nuclear-orange mac&cheese she picked the latter.  In my head I start calling it Italian night because nothing screams Venice like frozen pizza and boxed macaroni.  I find salad in the back of the fridge which is surprisingly not gross despite being from last weekend but I snacked on all the toppings last night so I just add dressing except there's no spout on the dressing and I drown the salad.  

Then the dog ate half the pizza.

Pity my children if you must, but let's agree the only genetic flaw in their lives may be their mother and her poor domestic skills.

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