bsmiles and sunny days

I have a lot to do. Really. There is a long, long list of things that need to be done, but I have this disease. I guess you could call it a disease, I tell myself it's a disease. It might be more accurately described as an idiosyncrasy . I'm not a finisher. Years ago in my learning Renaissance I read some articles on handwriting analysis and found that you can tell a lot about a person by their signature. Mine gave a clear cut synopsis of me in that I write every letter carefully until the end where I leave a long tail and no letter. I don't finish the letters. It takes a conscious effort to shape the "a" and the "n". I was not surprised to learn this about myself, but alarmed to realize how telling this small thing was about me. I can do twelve loads of laundry in a day. I can because I generally home in a single day long enough to get it done, and yes, if I do a bedroom overhaul, I can easily come up with that much all at once. The problem i

I think about the same things so often that I forget whether I've voiced them here or not, which I'm sure you've noticed and thank you for your generous hush-hush about my dementia -like redundancy . One of those things is that people think that because I have a lot of kids I: a. am really organized, b. am really patient, and c. have easy childbirth. It's funny, even though I walk in these shoes every day, I automatically assume the same things about other mothers of large families. For the record, I am none of these things, no matter how much I aspire to be. I have not yet attained, any of these things, nor do I see the attainment in the near future. In fact, I would dare say I'm rather scattered. Dale may beg to differ. I always did have a big family mentality though. I remember counting the years when I got pregnant with Tre and lauding the speedy growth of our family at our young ages. I thought I was conquering a huge mountain by raising four kids so c

For Christmas this year, my sister-in-law bought books for everyone in my family, which I loved. When I unwrapped mine, I had no idea what kind of a treasure and tool she had inadvertently put into my hands; I haven't read a book in months. As a matter of fact, I read two books last year, that I recall: Two Princesses of Bamarre, a book on the kids' summer reading list , and a novel that was recommended my mom of which I can't remember the name. . I read it fast to ensure that I'd get it done and now my recollection of the details is minimal. With reality glaring all around me, I placed the gift in it's perfectly untouched dustjacket on the shelf with a thousand other books that I would love to read. I seriously doubted that I'd be able to read it. Everytime it caught my eye as I passed by, I felt a pull to read the first page. As soon as I had a quiet moment, (which lends to my dilemma in that I cannot read with noise) I snatched up the fresh off the pre