Mark took off for a couple of days camping with his brother and I am already dreading this time without him. Anya has been crying ever since he left; she must know how much I suck at parenting when I’m on my own. See, I’m one of those people that LOVE my time with my children... up to a point. Around about twilight, if I haven’t had any down time I start to transform into the evil lady of the canyon, howling in rage at any little slight or uttered “NO.” It’s not pretty. I’m not proud of my behavior but I don’t seem to have a lot of control, my fuse just gets too short. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t harm my kids. We just don’t jive, yo.
At this moment, I can just barely see my kids as they sit up on the landing and I sit here at the dining room table. All I can see is Lily’s hands moving towards Anya’s face and there is something she’s holding but I can’t quite make out what. There is no screaming. Not even a sound. I know I should be concerned, but I am so enjoying this moment of peace, I just can’t bring myself to get up, walk over there and discover what they’ve done to each other.
Anya is now covered in sunblock. Not the cheap stuff either.
OK, cleaned her up. NOW Lily is laying on the couch screaming “WHY?” over and over again as though she is auditioning for a really bad John Woo movie scene where bodies fly all over the battle field and the protagonist agonizes as his best friend dies in his arms dramatically, followed by the most insipid dialogue known to man, so bad in fact that you look over at your husband and beg him to turn it off, my GOD just make it stop. Not that I’m thinking of any specific movie or anything.
Anya, on the other hand, is emptying the cupboard of all the little bowls, plates, cups, sippy cups and utensils that belong to the girls. Because they just look better all over the kitchen floor, I guess. I don’t know!
He’ll be back before I know it, right? RIGHT?