Tid-bits

"So how do you get to Heaven after you die? Oh. I know....does someone pick up your skeleton and throw you up the sky?" - my Man, just speaking out loud.

"Love makes me grow." - my Man, after receiving a couple of smooches from me. Divine tune to ears I'd say!

"A pink horse. Ok! Let's do it! Let's get a pink horse. Not for big boys, for big girls, like me..." - my Belle, still trying in her sweet way to get over not being old enough to go for horse-riding classes like her big bro.

"Is he a private part?" - when I reminded my Man for the umpteenth time not to touch the aarongator (so as not to share his cold germs with his lil bro). A disconnect in communication, obviously.

Greenland

It's a bout of something or other.
Whatever it is, it's giving me the runs - oh and literally as well.
Dashing to get to the bathroom on time is laughable when you're not the dasher.
And the gripes. Oh! the gripes. Uncontrollable, untimely, unmodulated pain!
Only thing I can blame is the fungi-ridden bread.
Yeah. Green as grass. But of course I didn't have my specs on.
First bite tasted erm, for lack of originality, grassy.
Yeah, like vegetable.
Then I spotted the first spot. Mega-spitout after. But already swallowed a good mouthful.
Argh.
3 days.
Dehydration sure makes one feel kinda lethargic, kinda woozy, kinda pukey.
Like when pregnant.
Just the scare alone knocked me out last night -
only to be woken by serious, unrelenting, gripes.
Wonder if an entire meadow has grown in my gut.
Why does it take so long to wipe out the greenery?
Bothered me so much I even dreamt I lost so much water weight that I could ask my sister to borrow her dresses. Chuh.
Least am still positive.

My fortune

In a cookie.

To get 3 fortunes in one cookie is crazy.

But that's exactly what I got tonight.

So I took it to heart to read them carefully. They tell me that:-

1. Striving for the best will bring you the best.
2. Your life will be happy and peaceful.
3. A tantalizing new prospect will come your way.

Wow. Can't be that bad afterall then.

Am selling our wares. The swing set, the second cot, the lil tikes car, the activity table, the pool, the baby tub, and various others - they're gone. Material things don't matter, I tell my children. They holler and wail so loud it's like I'm selling and taking the very clothes off their back. But it's really ok coz material things don't matter, I repeat. Then why do these people want ours? they retort. Um. Coz they haven't realised that material things don't matter?, I explain. They grumble (read 'wail') even louder. I end up saying ok ok I buy you another later. Sigh. What a loser. But I'm too tired. This job is, without a doubt, tiring. But I've uncovered something about myself - I can actually sell things. People will actually buy off me. That's some consolation. Hm.

Unimaginable sadness

It's an ache. Kinda bittersweet. Some sort of enduring longing. Unimaginable sadness. Such a mish-mash of emotions.

No, no tragedy. But it sure feels like it at times.

Did I choose wrong? Why this ache? It's been blissful whilst it lasted. A damn great holiday if I must say so.

I worry that I did them wrong. What kind of mother is not sure? I hear sympathetic refrains...am just....sad.

So when I get over it I'll say so. Am praying for guidance.

Must be blessed

Aarongator

and cousin, Theobubba
on 'Wong Fei-Hong' initiation day
on the afternoon of baptism