Thursday, August 23, 2007

Bits and Pieces

When my kids were toddlers, I expected to never have a moment to myself. I got used to (but never happy about) reading things a paragraph at a time. For several years I gave up on adult books and mostly read magazine articles because attempting to read a novel was a lesson in frustration. I even tried books on tape but I would have to rewind so often that I would forget what was happening and, eventually, have to give the book back to the library.
My kids are older. Declan is 16 and gone for 6-10 hours a day (school has started but this week they've been going half days because of the heat-go figure). The house is quieter when he is gone but, this week anyway, he's been bringing friends home with him so things get really noisy when he comes in. Zed is 12 and usually good about taking responsibility for his daily "school" work (assigned at the beginning of each week). Carmac is 4 and perfectly capable of entertaining himself for long stretches of time. So, why is it that in the time it has taken me to write this paragraph, I have been interrupted probably 20 times? You'd think my kids never got to spend any quality time with me the way they clamor for my attention. A couple of sentences ago, Carmac was trying to get my attention by saying once "Mom" and then tugging on my earloaf (what he calls earlobes). Grrrr.

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