Friday, Friday, So Good to Me! Anders and I decided that it was okay for Martin to walk to school this morning by himself, so while the kids were eating breakfast, I cut up honeydew and packed Martin's backpack with his gym clothes and fruit bowl, and then I saw him out the door. I watched from the window as he walked down the street in the frosty early morning with the sharp sunshine slanting down his back. He looked so little and yet so big.
Afterwards, Karin and I jumped back in bed to snuggle for a bit, but she couldn't settle down and we ended up looking at photo albums under the covers. She would jump out of bed and run to the living room and fetch one of the big books and then her feet would patter-patter-patter back and she would climb up into the big bed and hand me the book. She wanted to see pictures of me when I was little, but we didn't find very many because none of my photo albums are labeled. Her expectation was that every baby picture depicted her and was a little put out when I kept having to tell her it was Martin or someone else's child, since she never ended up bringing an album that had HER baby pictures in it. Man, I have a lot of pictures of other people's children! Seems kind of silly in a way, since many of them are people I've fallen out of touch with, and when my kids inherit these albums they aren't going to have the slightest idea who those blurry babies and smiling anonymous children are.
When I send pictures of my children to friends, I usually try to make sure it's a picture that has us in it as well, or at least me. Because WE are the friends, not the children, and it's ridiculous of me to expect my friends to take that much of an interest in my kids. It might sound petty, but I get a little miffed when people that I am/was close to only ever send me pictures of their children, because honestly? I want to see THEM, not their kids! I save the kid-only pics for those who have no choice about being involved in my children's development...like family members or YOU. heh.
I'm reading The Power of One by Bryce Courtenay because my brother recommended it as THE BEST BOOK EVER. I can't say I agree with that statement, but I am really enjoying it, and after only 10 chapters can recommend it very highly. The writing is lyrical, amusing, colorful and entrancing. I really want to know what happens to this kid.
Raising the Bar for Guest Bloggers Everywhere: Take it Away, Gabo
New Love: Tricks of the Trade
Really, REALLY Good Writing Out There Right Now: Stardust
Made Me Laugh Like a Drain: You know, for years I have been toying with the idea of the ultimate in horror: a movie that's nothing but 90 minutes of people's expressions when they realize they've just tipped their chair back too far and are certainly doomed. You won't see that kind of reality in the mainstream, my friend. Can you imagine it? The outright panic of knowing you were going to tip over backwards, possibly in the middle of a crowded cafe? When you know for certain your mother's repeated entreaties to not tip your chair back were so true, so bitterly true. It's like a snuff film, but without the dying. (by the hilarious kafkaesque)