I’ll tell ya what, I have spent all morning thinking about what exactly I wanted to write for this piece this week. When I finally sat down (an hour and a half late of my deadline) I still had no clue. I decided I’d just touch on each of the things on my mind this week.
Life: my youngest woke up Monday morning at 3:45 a.m. having a major asthma attack out of no where. The kid doesn’t have an inhaler at home so we rushed to Urgent Care. They said he had an upper respiratory infection but he had no symptoms beyond the asthma attack and a runny nose. However, this morning he woke up with what he was missing: cough, congestion, feeling crummy. It’’s hard when our kids are sick, it’s hard not to constantly worry until they are back on their feet, running around and being their normal selves again.
Halloween Candy: I could write a whole piece on this but I’m starting to think no one listens to me anyway. Last night was one of the most exciting nights of the year, just second to Christmas (depending on who you ask). The kids spend all year waiting to put on costumes and trick-or-treat. Home owners start buying hundreds of dollars worth of candy as early as August to prepare, kiddos dream of staying up past dark, filling a bag of candy and eating until they are sick whether it’s two pounds of candy or twenty.
Then the parents come in and ruin everything-complaining: complaining about people giving only one piece, or lines being too long, or houses being too scary or not scary enough. Listen to me friends: our kids hear what we say and they mimic us. We teach them how to act and what to say by the very words that come out of our mouths. When we complain about anything-they learn to complain. What’s worse: one piece of candy per kid from people who spent their own hard earned money to bring joy or no candy at all?
Exciting things: I’m in this Facebook group that is for writers. I got added to it a couple years ago after seeing an acquaintance (who has published several of her own books) share about her time away at their writing retreat. It sounded like a dream: go away for a weekend, be holed up in a room with no other task but to write. I had been longing to go for the last several years but it never worked out. This year however, the universe lined it all up perfectly. I paid my fees and downloaded the suggested packing list. I’m leaving Thursday afternoon and I won’t be home until Sunday. I have high hopes that I’ll maybe, JUST MAYBE, finish the book I’ve been writing for the last two years. Or maybe I’ll start a new one. Or maybe I’ll just read ten books and write nothing. Either way-I’m going and I’m so excited.
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