Porajmos. 6-23-18

Porajmos

Lacking Vision. 6/15/18

Life is like walking blind into a room where Boop has been playing. Every other step can be painful, and you really don't know what anything is until you've broken it--unless it's Legos or Qixels. You just hope to goodness that no one is watching. 

So, I've grown weary of pleading, yelling, threatening to get rid of her toys, and taking away TV to get Boop to clean up her messes. I do not love how she cajoles me into "helping" her and then goes and starts playing with another toy. Putting her favorite toys in a garbage bag and keeping them, only to let the Easter bunny return them a few weeks later, had very little effect. Now, I'm going in with surgical precision. I'm removing the toys that I'm tired of, that she's not interest in until I tell her that we should let them go. I quietly took about 4 puzzles this morning, and of course, she didn't notice. Is it mean to feel self-satisfied?

Thunderstorms. 6-1-2018

Boop and I thought we were going to make it to an outdoor concert tonight, but alas, the storms were pretty bad. We had to turn around. I wasn't even sure if it was really going to happen after driving all that way. So, I drowned my sorrows in Speculoos cookie butter and bread in spite of hitting my pre-Trump weight yesterday. (Ugh, Trader Joe's, you siren of plumposity!)  I'm hearing it's called the Trump 10. In my case it was the Trump 8, but who's counting?

Super Planet Janet, 5-17-18

Boop just discovered her blog and wanted me to update. 

Tears for Fears has been on heavy rotation: partly because I've loved the group for many years and were Boop's first rock concert (with the possible exception of Liam and Elroy when I was pregnant), and partly because the CD is stuck in my car CD player. It's like the Proclaimers cassette tape stuck in the car on How I Met Your Mother--sometimes you're digging it, sometimes you need a break and want to listen to NPR. 

Boop wanted me to post her singing Seeds of Love. Folks don't seem to have much love for others that are not like them these days. Seems like folks would rather try to punish the needy than give them a little hand up. Boop and I are still fighting for a country who cares about everybody and gives everyone a fair chance. So, Boop gets the idea of the song, if not the lyrics.

I think one of the lines Boop was going for was, "There's egg on your face and mud on your shoes." Misheard words and messages are a constant. Boop and I approach life with much spirit, but sometimes less accuracy. There's always that 3rd variable that we don't take into account, that wasn't on our radar. Sometimes the craziest hypotheses are the right ones. Sometimes we land with abysmal failure and embarrassment. Sometimes I'm simply on a different planet. I've gotten the wrong direction from folks a couple of times; so maybe I should just ask Mr. Jetson, "Which way do I go? What do you think I should do?" They have that little treadmill they put Astro on. Maybe that's my fate. Always older, never the wiser.