Stream of Words

Cleo is yammering in her crib.... wanted her to take a little nap, but it's a wee bit late. Phelan is climbing on my desk 'plugging in' who knows what.

I want to get better at organizing my thoughts into words. I am a visual creature and can't compose a letter with out silence and hours to ponder. So here I am with all my daily distractions seeing if anything can come out with some sort of relative sence.

"Mommy, where is my Blackberry?" (the electronic device, not the fruit) How often does your three year old say that? Mine does daily.

Cleo is silent and Phelan is playing quietly across the room... .hm... now I'm at a loss of words.

So, I've been feeling the need to get out of my domestic rut lately. The housework is never done, so why put off all the cool stuff I want to do till after I get 'my stuff' done. Sometimes I feel like the stero-typical 'housewife', who feels trapped in her house and years to get out and discover who she is, except I pretty much know who I am. I've just had to put parts myself in hibernation in order to become the mommy-housewife I am. I see it not as a permanent sacrifice, but a temporary one. As my kids get older, I have visions of of them tagging along behind me in the woods with packs of thier own upon thier backs.

"Just when the catipillar thought the world was over, she bacame a beautiful butterfly"