“I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life, to live so sturdily and Spartan-like as to put to rout all that was not life, to cut a broad swath and shave close, to drive life into a corner, and reduce it to its lowest terms.“

Henry David Thoreau

You Ain’t Cool Unless You Pee Your Pants

This week the family realized that we were days away from a mile marker — the end of September will mark three months of being jobless (kind of), free, and focused on making life the best. Three months….feels like a long time. Some might view that as an insult to the journey, but I am impressed by the way that time slowed down.

No need to snicker to yourself and call me a liar…I know that the last three words of that last paragraph were of fibbing-quality. But let me tell you, I did find a way to at least hinder Father Time; made him look the other way for a bit by throwing a medium-rare steak in the opposite direction (Papa Time loves him some red meat), and he is probably going to come back at me with the wrath of three thousand mother bears once he catches on to my diversion.

I hate to say it for all of you wishers and dreamers out there, but time is still moving at a rapid pace; still too fast for my liking. Some days my gremlins appear to be helpless poop machines that cannot fend for themselves, and I sigh and smile as they cuddle me and fall asleep in my arms, but lo and behold, the next day they are damn near teenagers, grown inches overnight, full on adult faces, telling me they are “working on a project,” have a brilliant idea, or want to watch the next episode of a show that they probably should not be watching but found it while spending too much time on their “iPack.” (This reminds me….sometimes I question whether or not certain movies are appropriate for my kids, but then I remember that I watched Pulp Fiction around eight years old and it was life-changing. I thank my father all of the time for what might have been interpreted as a reckless act. Thank you, Dad, you have no idea how this carved me into a Tarantino-wannabe. The good parts of Tarantino at least.)

But after they display their adult-like learnings, they either pee their pants, ask me for yet another snack, or try to con me into giving them candy. And then I normalize, I breathe, and I remember that they are tiny gremlins and that I have a little bit left to cherish before they sprout weird hair and start asking me probing questions which you know I will damn well answer.

But let us pause and give a moment of silence to that one time Carmella announced to the people in the primate house at the zoo that her boobs were “coming in” just like the gorillas. Not yet, my love, the boobs are a long ways away. But not really that far away. And that, my friends, is the scary part.

Every day I wake up, thinking this is the day that my hair will be completely grey.

Father Time, what in the hell do you want to make it slow the eff down? Perchance more filet mignon?

Takin’ Care of Business

The other day I wanted to play a game with my daughter, and she told me “she was too busy.”

Excuse me?

And then it hit me – emulation is a bitch.

These past two months have been a delicate dance of Adaptation. We have grown to know our new schedules, we have become aware of our tendencies and needs, and we have attempted to keep the weeks exciting – museums out the ass, picnics galore, so many swings, not enough time. But when does the housework come in? How does that work?

Apparently in between the fun stuff, I forgot to do my chores.

And when cramming in those chores on a single day, I forgot to play with my kids. And they noticed. Instead of Carmella saying, “let’s go read a book because that is what I always see you doing,” she emulated me from my hectic days and said what she keeps hearing – “I am too busy to play.” How sad! Bad Mom Award Nominee. Proud of it, too. I have also heard “put your phone down,” which is the easiest way to help you become aware that you have a problem.

So next time you forget to have fun or get swallowed up by your screen, remember that your kids are watching, your friends are peering in, and your family is observing. Errands will always be there, like that patch of sample paint you cunningly placed on the wall of a room you still have not painted. No matter how many times you pick up the toys, empty the dishwasher, conquer the laundry monster, it will all be there yet again, ready to consume you the next week and envelope your mind while you are trying to relax and zone out.

Instead of doing chores, suck the marrow out of life. Get your ass out there and have a good time, damnit. Or else you might be connecting with our pal, Father Time, sooner than you wished, grasping and clawing for those past days where you could “forget” to do the dishes and play Play-doh instead.