the hand that hits, i mean "loves"

My kids have been taking me to Where The Flavor Is, if by that I mean, “to that place where I want to kick some ass furiously and indiscriminately”. Normally both kids don’t misbehave at the same time – you have at least one Good Kid to take refuge in – but my kids have been at it for days. I think it started early in the week when Sophie gave Nels a drink of milk while he was in his crib, and apparently (I was in the shower; Ningo was having his “book time” in his crib which usually keeps him from wreaking violence on my home) he calmly drank his milk then threw down the glass as if he was smashing a steel chair on the back of a Mexican wrestler. I come in to find a tangled mess of baby blankets and broken glass under the crib. I just wanted to beat his ass.

Perhaps I am getting punished / reminded of a little Reality since May is Foster Care Awareness Month and I had this slight inclination to consider how caring for other children might fit into my life. My kids are promptly sensing this internal query and upping me with an, “OK, sure, take on some more responsibility – and we will be here to shake the kitten to death / jam our fingers in the DVD player / terrorize any new charge you have” etc.

In other news, things are easing up a bit. Today is payday, which means that in my near future I will be experiencing a larger toilet paper ration, good coffee, and olive oil. I am breathing a big, big sigh of relief as we have respite from our Inter-Tron problems. Ralph is slowly creeping away on my sewing website and it’s looking great. He also got his latest film done, with local stars Ted and Dan hitting eachother with… cardboard tubes. Still, I’m proud of my guy. Making a movie is hard to do, especially one with such edgy material.

And now – back to the Horrid Ones.

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