Last week I wrote two posts and I thought, yes, this is going to be a priority, I love writing and I'm going to make it happen. But then I forgot all about that and spent countless hours on my ipod wasting all sorts of time looking up important things like, "Does being a bitch make you a better wife?" Don't judge! I was doing research for an upcoming project. Anyway, before you know it I convinced myself that I simply didn't have time to write everyday. It's amazing the things I can talk myself in and out of.
So guess what? Now I'm back on the once a day posting band wagon. Just for the next month, which technically doesn't start until Tuesday, but what can I say, I'm an over achiever. The bad news is that on most days I will have nothing to say, but I said I would write everyday and I always do what I say, so you will have to suffer through some drivel here and there. Just wait a second and you'll see what I mean...
The laundromat is becoming my favorite place once again. It lost some of its appeal in the winter months when all of the interesting people seemed to be away. There would be days when I went and nobody showed up and the only person to talk to was myself. It was lonely and boring and I was left with nothing to do but wash and fold laundry. Things began picking up recently when a woman came in and started asking me about how many kids and husbands I've had. Just one I told her; well, one husband, but four kids. And then she asked me about my husband and I told her what I could and according to her I really hit the jackpot. I made a mental note to stop making Greg out to be so great. I prefer to illicit sympathy, so next time, no talking about the fact that he's managed to hold onto the same job for seven years, something people truly shouldn't be impressed by, but you never can account for what will knock a person's socks off.
I was reading This Old House Magazine ( which I stole from the laundromat, but I'll bring it back, I promise) and here's the most useless tip for men I've ever seen published - seal the bathtub before Mother's Day to ensure mom gets a warm bath with no water leaks. Yes, nothing tells me I'm loved and appreciated more than having my husband put sealant on the tub. Truth be told, I'm not a bath girl, so who knows, this may be a good piece of advice. If I ever did take a bath I would need to bleach the tub first, then cover my body in bleach and then put on underwear before getting into the tub, because that is just the kind of person I am. At that point one of my kids would be banging on the door wondering and worrying about why I was taking a bath in the first place, something they've never known me to do, and I would give up, go lay on my bed and stare at the ceiling saying things like, "don't anyone come in here and bug me, I'm contemplating stuff, " something they've known me to do quite often.
Today I was reminded why I started homeschooling my kids in the first place. No need to tell you all why, it's really not that interesting, but I will say this - when you lose sight of the reason you started doing something in the first place you face a slippery slope of doubt, confusion and frustration and no good can come out of it, so the best thing to do is keep it all inside and wait until you are about to explode and hope someone posts something on facebook that hits you exactly where you need it to and then get back to doing what you knew was right to begin with, which is basically to keep the spark alive in the kids. Of course there's more to it than that, but that is the general jist.
Several close friends had children who received their First Communion today. It was a beautiful moment. If you believe fully and completely in the Eucharist there is nothing better to see than someone receiving it for the first time. I love being Catholic and am grateful God kept me where I need to be to. I love being able to go to Mass everyday if I want. I love the prayers, the liturgy, the routine. I love Mary and the rosary and hearing Maggie say the Hail Mary. Years ago I would have recoiled at the thought of expressing any of that. It would have been repulsive. Who goes around talking like that? Weirdos! But, alas, I have become a weirdo and I'm okay with that.
Must go to bed now before I hit the point of no return. Rest up my capicola farts, it's going to be a tediously long month of daily posting.