Friday, March 27, 2009


My head has been, well, fuzzy lately. Perhaps a better word is full. And by that, I'm not simply referring to the snot and phlegm that seems to have taken out a multi-year lease in my sinuses. (Been a bit of a brutal winter.)

It's just that I haven't taken a lot of moments for self-reflection. Or reflection on much of anything at all, to be honest.

As evidenced by the lull in posting dates.

So I'm here, rekindling my blogging mojo. And trying not to sink in the idea that this is, at heart, a take-time-to-smell-the-roses metaphor for all the other things whizzing by.

The boys are singing, these days. One favorite, sung to the tune of 'Twinkle Twinkle:' Broccoli, broccoli, broccoli, broccoli, broccoli, broccoli, broccoli song. (Try it. Out Loud. It works.)

More to the point - they are talking. Zach in sentences - of which I can usually interpret 1 in 4. (Luckily, they are oft repeated four times in a row.) Jake in dictatorial commands, fingers pointing imperiously, the exclamation points impossible to miss. Ma! Up! Milk!

And they need their own wheels. Clearly. These days, every scooter, bike, tricycle, hot-wheels we encounter is an untapped opportunity for speed. On? Up? Faster? Every car and truck and motorcycle is an object worthy of protracted, rapt attention. (Latest trick to distract from a brewing tantrum: look Jakey, is that a bus?) So, for their (imminent) 2nd birthday: wheels of some sort. (and, I think, helmets. But not for the slide. I don't need to be that kind of crazy mom. I don't think.)

So, where have I been, exactly, while my boys have been discovering their innate love of NASCAR? What have I been doing, other than blowing my nose for what must truly be some sort of House-episode-inspiring medical record?

I've been riding the subway, reading headlines of the world crashing in an ever-shrinking New York Times. Watching a president doggedly try to do things differently.
Watching my roster of laid-off friends get longer and deeper and closer to home.
Of course I am, admittedly, one of the lucky ones. More than lucky. After all, I'm riding that subway to work. And I've been working hard - thrown into the deep in chaos-inducing uncertainty and trying to keep my head while clearly in over it.

I've been reading books - fantasy crap to lull me to sleep. Board books of horsies, duckies, boats and planes. The ever present, indomitable Elmo.

I've been managing bills and paying taxes and heading to doctor's appointments. Buying diapers, filling the fridge, feeding the cats. I've been doing all those things we all do, all the things that keep our heads full.

So here I am. Blowing my nose. Thinking about writing, reflecting, mojo and roses.

And Spring. Finally.