Soon to Be Pillaging Villages Near You

You're right! We did buy her at IKEA. I think she was in Aisle 14A. She was the only model available with the "Viking Will of Iron."

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Back in the Saddle Again

Today I am supposed to send thank you notes to five people that I appreciate. This was a really hard task, not because I didn’t want to write the notes –I could have written volumes. In fact, I love nothing more than sitting down to write, well, anything. I also didn’t have any trouble coming up with people I could thank. I could have written ten cards with very little thought. What I didn’t have was time. I didn’t have the kind of uninterrupted time, the kind of cognitive awake time, the kind of un-worn out time that would allow me to adequately appreciate another person. The reason? The reason makes a convincing impression of a screech owl running its talons down the chalkboard while watching a cat fight. Only louder. It’s not full on crying, just the sound of complete and utter discontent. Repeated.

It’s not just a baby with an undesirable soundtrack, it’s a baby that needs to nurse all the time, because in God’s infinite “wisdom” (and this is where you imagine my seven year old using air quotes) He thought that it would be a great idea to give everyone a great big ol’ mouth full of teeth and then make it a total body thrill ride to get them. It’s like Space Mountain, but instead of pretty lights and that whooshy, exhilirating feeling in your stomach, there’s a crowbar trying to hack its way through your gum-line. What little dignity you have is then whittled away as the Niagra Falls of drool pours over your bottom lip and your poop turns green. Finally, just to cap it off, how about if we repeat it with EVERY SINGLE TOOTH! I love God. I really do, but I can tell you that teething, it’s on the list of things that I am NOT afraid to take Him to task on when I die, right after morning sickness and right before mosquitoes.

So here I am. Profoundly sleep deprived and questioning my religion.

I did get those thank you notes written. The writing may not be pretty. But, I can promise you that just thinking about writing them made me grateful for the people in my life. It made me wish that I could tell them all the time. Write them notes all the time. Have annual parades in their honor. Or at least, take them on Space Mountain.