Ants. I will never have to buy my children an ant farm, because we live in one. The whole darn building is crawling with ants. From about April to November, we only see them occasionally, a loner exploring in the wilderness of our living room. But the other half of the year is a permanent struggle. Call me selfish, but I don't want to share our sugar bowl with any other species.
The serenity prayer. A couple of weeks ago, I was thinking in meeting for worship about a new formulation for myself. It would go something like
God, please grant me
the courage to apologize on the spot when I have just said something that goes beyond tactless into hurtful,
the serenity to let go of the times when it wasn't that big a deal, or that were more than a year ago,
and the wisdom to know the difference.
My youngest child is now five years old. He can buckle his own seatbelt, put on his own socks, and wipe. What will I do with all my free time?
Last night, I had a conversation with my husband about how we met fifteen years ago this month. We spent a few minutes looking at the signatures on our wedding certificate. We can still decipher them all, but I can't picture all the faces any more.
Fifteen years ago was another really exciting time of my life. I had just graduated from college, started attending Quaker meeting, joined the Fourth World Movement volunteer corps, moved to New York, and then I started dating Chris. 23 and 24 were very good years. 38-39 are shaping up to be the same.
Friday night update: We have created a monster. My eldest son, age 8 1/2, is reading The Lord of the Rings. He's up to the Council of Elrond in the first book. He said to me, "Mommy, it's not so complicated like you said." Whatever. His father first read it in fifth grade, so I guess I shouldn't be so surprised.
Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]