I hope this blog serves a better purpose than my last blog did, both for me and anyone that happens to read it. On my old blog I vented and voiced my opinion about politics, religion, life drama, etc. and debated whatever I could get people to debate with me. It was fun, but not fulfilling. So eventually I stopped posting and finally deleted the blog. On this blog, I am going to change my focus.
Let's face it; life is hard. Every day I get up much earlier than I want to. My first thought is, "I hate mornings!" I recognize that this is a terrible attitude and really not the best way to start my day. I've tried to change. I can't. I really hate mornings. Then the work starts: childcare, laundry, dishes, vacuuming, preparing food, cleaning bathrooms, pet care, mopping, etc. But the house is always dirty. I am always exhausted. I rarely get to do things that I enjoy doing like reading, writing, and dancing. Even though I get the work done, I have to do it over and over again. Every. Single. Day. The daily grind is wearing me out.
So why am I so happy?
That's what I intend to show you.
So here is my first example:
My second son is a firecracker. He is three years old. I am going to call him Max after the boy from Where the Wild Things Are by Maurice Sendak. The illustration of the boy chasing his dog with a fork from that book really hits close to home. My boy does the same thing, only he uses a sword. One of my sisters once commented that I ought to send him to Neverland, which is literally the best idea I've ever heard of what to do with him. I am completely clueless as to how to be a good parent to this kid, but I try.
Anyway, today Max was performing somersaults, headstands, and flips on my rocking recliner. I commented that I ought to put him in a gymnastics class. He didn't know what that was, so I explained that it was a place where he would be taught to do cartwheels, flips, and balancing.
He said, "Look, Mom! I tan balance on dis!" And he stood up on the arm of the chair and rode it like a surfboard.
I said, "Max, chairs are for sitting in. Get down from there and sit on your bum! Stop acting like a maniac!"
Max said, "I not a maniac!"
I said, "I didn't say you were. I said you were acting like one. It's a simile!"
Max said, "I not a maniac. Daddy and Grandma is a maniac!"
