school is in session...
My darlings are heading into day two of the school year. It's the first week, so homework is minimal and recess is "maximal". If school was like this year round, our children would be accomplished monkey bar gymnists and completely and utterly braindead. But as it stands, the teachers are effectively inacting the "bait and switch" technique that most kids aren't old enough to discern. I, for one, think it's a brilliant stategy. You might as well lure them in with fun while you can and then sucker punch them in week two with algebra and chemistry and circular reasoning. Horray for "bait and switch"...next week it will be "swait and..." well, you get my point.
Last night was a long night. Each of the girls came into our room and woke their mother complaining of scary dreams, insatiable thirst, and an inordinate fear that the stock market would crash in the near future. (let's just say that sometimes their excuses are less that legitimate). After Heidi could take no more, she turned to me and said, "Could you help me here? I'm getting no sleep." I leaned over and asked Taylor if she wanted her daddy to lay with her on the floor next to the bed. I was hoping she would say something like, "Oh daddy, that won't be necessary. I'm overcoming my fears just fine on my own." But alas, she nodded her head and I knew that I was in for a long night from that moment on. We set up a makeshift bed on the floor and I laid next to her and rubbed her head and her back. Her eyes were open and when I would look at her, she would smile almost as if to say, "This is what I was hoping for all along." For some reason her sinister smile didn't enrage me. I felt like we were having a special moment together. When I would stop rubbing her back or head, she would open her eyes as if to say, "do you realize that you just stopped ministering to my every need?" I would motivate myself to move my arm once again and tenderly scratch her back and brush my fingertips along her forehead and through her thin, silky hair. She would smirk and lay still so long as I waited on her like a bondslave.
My back is soar and twisted in knots this morning. My eyelids hang heavy over my bloodshot eyes. My mind is less than sharp and the clarity of my responsibilities for the day don't seem to be spurring me on much.
The girls are at school. I'm at the coffee shop. Heidi is at the YMCA. And God is giggling.
Last night was a long night. Each of the girls came into our room and woke their mother complaining of scary dreams, insatiable thirst, and an inordinate fear that the stock market would crash in the near future. (let's just say that sometimes their excuses are less that legitimate). After Heidi could take no more, she turned to me and said, "Could you help me here? I'm getting no sleep." I leaned over and asked Taylor if she wanted her daddy to lay with her on the floor next to the bed. I was hoping she would say something like, "Oh daddy, that won't be necessary. I'm overcoming my fears just fine on my own." But alas, she nodded her head and I knew that I was in for a long night from that moment on. We set up a makeshift bed on the floor and I laid next to her and rubbed her head and her back. Her eyes were open and when I would look at her, she would smile almost as if to say, "This is what I was hoping for all along." For some reason her sinister smile didn't enrage me. I felt like we were having a special moment together. When I would stop rubbing her back or head, she would open her eyes as if to say, "do you realize that you just stopped ministering to my every need?" I would motivate myself to move my arm once again and tenderly scratch her back and brush my fingertips along her forehead and through her thin, silky hair. She would smirk and lay still so long as I waited on her like a bondslave.
My back is soar and twisted in knots this morning. My eyelids hang heavy over my bloodshot eyes. My mind is less than sharp and the clarity of my responsibilities for the day don't seem to be spurring me on much.
The girls are at school. I'm at the coffee shop. Heidi is at the YMCA. And God is giggling.
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