A few things I learned this week.
To write is to reveal oneself. And this week I chose to write about heavily fatty meats (and their juices) twice. (here and here) Viola is mewling in my arms so I don't have time to psychoanalyze this choice with the seriousness it deserves. But on the surface it seems to reveal that I am glutton with a future rich in clogged arteries. Hello self. Nice to meet you.
Silk is lovely and meant for people without children. Riley has always said that he loves that I dress up everyday. And because I love when he loves me, I oblige. Most days there are tights and lipstick and a dress that can twirl. There is something confidence building about running errands in that perfect silk Charlotte Taylor. Look at me. Bagging tomatoes in my skirt that floats. Darling, there is nothing pedestrian about filling the gas tank in a dress with such a lovely print. Oh, is that my child throwing a fit in the toy aisle? I could hardly hear it over soft rustling of my designer Ebay find. And then. Margaret tugs on my dress until the delicate seam splits. Or I bump up against the huge grit covered car parked next to me in the tiny space as I labor to extract the kids from their seats. Grime smeared across the bum of that designer find is less appealing than one might think. And then of course, there is the inevitable time each week that Viola looks at me, smiles and then throws up every bottle I have ever fed her. Have you smelled silk covered in vomit? An unholy pairing. Silk is lovely. But it might be time to embrace my reality.
Do you think they sell coverall's in pink?
And finally. Sometimes at the end of a long week it is okay to sit and watch cartoons with your three year old while you both eat cupcakes for breakfast. Because the house is a mess. And the cereal is gone. And eating your collective body weight in frosting just seems easier.
Have a good weekend.