Sometimes we watch other people, and think how nice it would be to live our lives in that kind of high-glam, thrills-a-minute existence. It's better than watching MST3K, or more depressing than watching Sex and the City. Either way, we keep watching...And sometimes, it's easy to then look around at the chaos of our own lives, and get impatient with the responsibilities we have. Particularly in our little charges. We start thinking about how some people can pee in peace, or eat badly without feeling like a guilty hypocrite, or do what they want to do when they want to do it because they don't have anybody they're responsible for. And when what we really want to do is live off of boxed wine, Susy Q's, and rare t-bone steaks (or, that could be just me), we have to put down the book, and haul ourselves up off the couch to fix food, wipe noses and butts, explain things again and again (again), stand firm...
and be nice about it.
And it's easy to think that there's got to be something better. Somewhere. Somehow. Something we're missing, or missing out on, that we can never recapture. It's true that every choice we make indicates a choice we didn't opt for. Every responsibility we take on necessarily takes other options off the table. Call it a trade-off, call it choosing your path. Call it whatever you want, it can be frustrating.
But if we can, we need to look hard and long at what we're choosing, and what it will grow, what it will yield. When we can be honest about who we will become in those choices, and who we will impact in those choices, suddenly the choices become easier to make. Easier to embrace. Easier to be thankful for, added responsibilities, communal latrines, and all.
Because this doesn't just happen. This is the kind of thing that takes time and love to grow. It takes security and affection to thrive. Those things don't exist in a self-absorbed vacuum. They exist when we bring them to the table. When we nurture them in our own choices, in our own actions. They come to life when we put them into action, into life. Because this is it. This is life. This is what it's about. Not just parenting. Perhaps not even parenting. But life, family, friends. Love. Devotion. Doing what needs to be done because it needs to be done and we can do it. Sometimes we are the only ones who are supremely equipped to do it, whether we know it or not.Because we may begrudge putting down the book or foregoing the t-bone. But we will never regret doing the right thing. And sometimes we may get grumpy. Or whiny. (Again, that could be just me.) But we get over it, and we move on. And that's the good stuff. That what makes us, at the end of the line, look back and say, "It was a good life." Having someone still with you at the end to hear you say it, or being the person there to hear it said, well, that's kind of the point, isn't it?
As always, kiss those babies!~Dy
But at least they're not in her eyes. We acknowledged Smidge for his thoughtfulness, and then filled him in on the whole "only grownups get to take sharp objects to other people's heads" rule. We let James know that yes, that's just another perk of being a grown up. Right up there with staying up late, paying the bills, and going to work whether you want to or not. We gave John the hairy eyeball to let him know that she's not traumatized now, so please don't laugh and give her a complex. 
I'm thinking this, also, may have had some bearing on the overal condition of the fabric...
Well, that'll kick a gal out of a funk pretty darned quick, lemme tell you that. So, it's only eleven o'clock. I'm taking my vitamins, and going to bed. Because in the morning, there will be another stack of stories to read, more jokes to tell, and probably more dishes to wash. I don't mind leaving the dishes behind, actually. But the rest, I don't want to miss. Not if I can help it.