Monday, November 7, 2011


I'm sitting in the TV room, feet up on the coffee table.  The TV is on, Henry is playing Civilization on the XBOX.  Danny is back in his bedroom with a friend studying for their science test.  Sam is here on the couch impatiently waiting for 7:00pm so he can have the TV.

And I am sitting here thinking.  I have this time, precious time that I know will not be here forever.  Time to engage.  Time to visit.  Time to talk.  Time to understand.  And all I do is think.  I watch from the periphery.  I do what needs to be done but I live in my head.

And I'm irritated.  My thinking time is being disrupted with Sam yelling at Henry - ordering him around.  Henry has non-stop babble.  He is a kid who can carry on a conversation with no one but himself - and he does all the time.  It is never quiet.

But I shouldn't be thinking.  I shouldn't be wondering how I got to this place.  I shouldn't be arguing with Sam, but I am.


All.  The.  Time.


The angst around here.  Boys fighting with boys.

"Go away."

"Get out of my room."

"Put my video games away."

"Wash your hands before you use the controller - it's all greasy now."

And I think, how did I get here?

"Mom."  Interrupted again.

But I should be here.  The problem is that I'm not.

**Post inspired by Just Write.**

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