clean floors, dirty paws

This morning I gave the obligatory "time to go" warning to a Lego building boy.  I asked him if he had everything he needed for school and he assured me he did as he walked out the door to put on his shoes.  "Did you get your lunchbox and your snack?"  "Yep!" I walk outside next to him and poke into the small front pocket of his backpack that is open just further than half way.  I see no snack.  As he's adjusting his sock I repeat, "did you grab your lunchbox and your snack?"  "Yep!" Humm, I look info the big pocket of his backpack.  "Oh I see, your snack is in with your lunchbox. Here I'll put it in the small front pocket for you so it's easier to grab at school."  I remove the granola bar and zip it securely in the small front pouch.  Then I zip up the big pouch for good measure.  He's finishes putting on his shoes, grabs his backpack and jumps in the car.  Seems like a pretty typical exchange, but I have a p

I've promised myself a hundred times that I will make time to write and a hundred times I have betrayed myself.  Each time I have stories whirling around my head that never find safe landing on paper, I betray myself.  Each time I convince myself that nobody cares what I have to say, or that it's already been said a thousand ways by someone else, I betray myself.  Every time I sit down to write and delete it because I just isn't quite flowing how I want, I betray myself.  I have betrayed myself over and over and now there is a lack of trust going on between the voices in my head and what I know to be true.  The voice in your head isn't you, by the way, it isn't truth!  But more about that another time. The stories I tell myself on one hand are encouraging; you aren't writing for anyone but you so who cares if nobody reads it.  You have something to say, say it! These ideas and words that come to you are like songs and to silence them is to take away the musici