No tag in the bathroom
17 Monday Sep 2012
Ohmygosh, I don’t know what I just drank. And not in the crazy, fun, scary college days kind of way.
No, I mean I just took a long, refreshing gulp of my water and swallowed … a chunk.
There should never be a chunk in water. Except, of course, when four-year-old boys have been loitering around your desk. Then, anything is possible.
It’s been one of those days. One of those days that I don’t know whether to cry, shout or laugh maniacally. Although mercifully seldom, these days are not my favorite.
But they are necessary.
They all are, really. The bad remind you that the good are actually great and that the mediocre can be damn-near sublime. They also remind you that you are still You not just Mom, that it’s ok to split yourself between your passions and your duties. In fact, it’s necessary. As is alone time, which occurred to me this morning when I had to shout, “No tag in the bathroom,” as I applied my eyeshadow.
Clearly, the day started off wrong. In fact, you can usually gauge a day’s trajectory by the phrases uttered over morning coffee, and declaring the 5’-by-5‘ L-shaped bathroom a no-tag zone before 7 a.m. generally indicates a rough one ahead.
But if we let them, it’s the rough days that make us better because they make us take a step back. If the good days are the ones in which we are ever-present, in tune with every aspect of our routine, then the not-so-good ones can offer us the opportunity to get out of touch. That’s just as needed, as today not-so-delicately reminded me.
And in the end, it’s our passions that help keep us afloat and our duties that keep us grounded. We need them both. Which is, perhaps, what this site is really all about: passion. Mine, my children’s, my family’s. And it keeps me both afloat and grounded, balanced. It reminds me how important it is to reflect, that conjuring up the good – and yep, even the bad – about our days helps us to sort it all out. And in the process, we end up finding ourselves.
You’re probably wondering why I’m sharing this photo of a row of dolls, one of which is most certainly naked.
A couple reasons, actually. One, because there were no moments today worth photographing. And, two, taking pictures of Joey’s favorite dollies was the only way to keep her attention away from turning off Jack’s computer or stealing his crayons or tearing his coloring book or …. You get the idea.
Perhaps I’ve tapped into a new passion of hers? Weird, eerily-staged doll photography? Is there such a niche?
Either way, without further adieu, allow me to introduce Tink, Merida and the aptly named Creepy Naked.