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Monthly Archives: June 2013

Scorned

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You think you were wronged

The woman scorned

You

The one who

Chose your own fate

You wanted to win

Get everything you demanded

But for you to win

Someone had to lose

For in every battle

There is never a draw

Only a winner

And

A loser

Victorious

You stand in judgment

Of all in your path

Gaze fixed on

Me

The one who lost

The one who lost everything

Yet

You think you were wronged

The woman scorned

You

Who retained everything

And

Me

Left only with

Shattered pieces

Of what was to be

The Usual Worries

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Worries worries everywhere

The Wish

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I wish I knew

What was going on in my head.

I wish I knew

What to make of all of it.

I wish I knew.

 

I wish I knew

What was going on in my heart.

I wish I knew

What is making it beat.

I wish I knew.

 

I wish I knew…

 

Separation Anxiety

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Sharing a silly moment

Sharing a silly moment

The Girl Child is leaving for camp tomorrow.

A week long sleep away camp.

Her first time sleeping away without a family member.

And it will be the longest I have ever gone without seeing her.

Ironically, she is the one who is doing fine.  Granted, she is a little nervous.  After all, she isn’t even 9 yet.  But, she is excited about all of the fun things she will get to do (it’s a performing arts camp – so, she will be in her element).  Just as long as she gets to bring her beloved Kitty Kat, life will be fine.

I, on the other hand, am trying to stay calm.  I am going to miss my Littlest Monkey.  My little doppelgänger.  My little blonde bundle of unbounded energy.  I am going to miss the way she will come up to interrupt me from what ever it is I am doing, and when I send her away – she says, “I just wanted a hug.”  I am going to miss her high-pitched little “Yes, Mommy!” when I ask her to help me make lunch.  I am going to miss how she snuggles up next to me.

Oh, sure, I am NOT going to miss her bossiness.  Nor will I miss her screaming and stomping and slamming whenever I have had the NERVE to ask her to do something she doesn’t want to do.

But, I do know I will spend nearly six days – 140 hours – 8,400 minutes – 504,000 seconds – wondering what she is doing.  If she is homesick.  If she is ok.

I know she will be.

She’s just like that.

It’s a Summer Solstice Miracle!

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Summer officially arrived at 1:04 Eastern Standard Time.

And here in Happy Monkey Land we did not celebrate it with dancing nekkid in the sunshine, as per the druids of ancient days (or even as some of those who gather at Stonehenge even now).

It instead was met with a series of what will now be known as the Miracles of the Summer Solstice.

Miracle #1 – The Three Monkeys let me sleep until NINE!  Well, technically, it was only The Little Monkeys, as Monkey #1 was himself still sleeping.  No yelling.  No screaming.  No fighting over which channel to watch.  No peeking into my room and then jumping onto my bed.  Just sleep.  Heavenly sleep.

Miracle #2 – I had mentioned to The Monkeys that the inside of my car needed cleaned out.  Well, Monkey #1 and the Girl Child take it upon themselves to get my spare key, clean out the car AND THEN VACUUM IT.  It is important to note that this was completely unprompted.  Later in the afternoon, we all decided to go out and wash my car.  Big fun was had by all.

Miracle #3 – After cleaning out my car, Monkey #1 handed me some mail he had retrieved from inside.  I thought it was all junk.  Until I felt one, opened it, and discovered my new debit card inside.  I have been without it for three weeks, after SWEARING to the bank I never got it.  Just in time too.  The Netflix account ran out today.

Miracle #4 – We ate dinner together, at the table, with my mother, with no screaming, no yelling, no meltdowns, no screams of “SHUT UP!”  Just talking and laughing.  Oh, and they all ate without my having to nag or set the kitchen timer.

Miracles one and all, I tell ya.

You know, summer always has been my favorite season.  The sun beating down, warming me.   I feel like a little hot house flower, soaking up the rays.  And I know not every summer day will be as lovely as today.  But, today?  It was truly a miraculous day.

In Search of a Land of Happy Monkeys…

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As I am sure many of my fellow bloggers can attest, I am addicted to the stats page for Happy Monkey Land.  You know.  The one that tells you how many views you’ve had in a day, which countries they hail from, and how – exactly – they managed to stumble upon your ramblings.

I am particularly fascinated by the search terms that are typed in to various search engines that somehow manage to lure a reader to my musings.   Not because I want to “tailor” my writing so as to draw in more folks – but, because some of them are down right funny.  Hysterical, even.

Here is a sampling of my favorites –

Dysfunction monkey.  Sounds kinda like Conjunction Junction.  “Dysfunction monkey, what’s your function?”

4 letter word for “without change.”  Me thinks someone was trying to cheat on a crossword…

Monkey writing good words peam.  Nope.  Not a typo on my part.  What in the hell is a peam?

What are the swirly vortexes in candy crush saga?  I kid you not.  Maybe that reader could tell me how to beat the level on which I am currently stuck.

My kids love happy monkey.  Well, yes.  Yes they do.  Particularly a happy Mommy Monkey.

Guess the word bungee cord 4 letters.  Again…CHEATERS!  Figure it out for yourself, why don’t ya!?!

Could picking off shingles scab cause a rehash of shingles.  I do hope that reader figured out my blog is not a place to go to look for medical advice.  I’m not a doctor, nor do I play one on TV.

But perhaps my all time favorite is one that popped up today.  This phrase, unbeknownst to the searcher, pretty much sums up life here in Happy Monkey Land…

Monkey that gets distracted by shiny objects.  Well, in our house it is actually FOUR monkeys that get distracted by shiny objects (that don’t even really have to be all that shiny to serve as a distraction… SQUIRREL!).  The Three Monkeys thought it to be tres funny.

I did my own search to see which post would come up.  Turns out it was The Cleaning Bug, written about The Girl Child and the cleaning jag she has been on.  When I informed her thusly, she proclaimed, “YES!  The post about ME came up!  I’m FAMOUS!” (Drama queen, anyone?)

Poor little thing.  I didn’t have the heart to tell her that one of the posts about her brothers, My Little Bronies:  Brotherhood is Magic, had by far the most search terms linked to it.  Who knew so many people were searching for all things My Little Pony?  Not I.

Hey!  Know what this has put me in the mood for?

Popping on to my favorite search engine (that would be Bing, my friends) and just start typing in random strings of words.  Just to see what pops up.

But, no matter what I find, I am sure it will not be any where NEARLY as awesome as life here in Happy Monkey Land.

Happy searching!

It’s Complicated

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You ask if it is difficult.

It’s not, is my reply.

You ask if it’s too hard.

Not for me, I say to you.

You say it isn’t easy.

Yet, here we are, my dear.

So –

No, it isn’t difficult.

Nor is it too hard.

And yes it may not be easy,

This thing we’ve come to be.

What this is – is convoluted.

What this is  – is complex.

What this  is – is complicated.

Until it ceases to be anymore.

Summertime and the Living Is Easy… Says Who?

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Kickin’ up my heels at the beach. LAST summer.

With all due respect for the geniuses that are the Gershwin Brothers and their masterpiece “Porgy and Bess,” but – that line is wrong.  On so many levels.

Oh, I know most folks believe that us teachers just spend all summer long laying out in the sun, workin’ on our tans.  Kickin’ up our heels enjoying our two month vacation.

I hate to burst that bubble, but that just ain’t true.

I use my summers to attempt to get caught up on all the things I can’t manage to get done the other ten months out of the year.

You know, when my days start when I get up at 5:30, and don’t end until I put aside my work and turn out the lights at 11:30.  And where my weekends are spent preparing lesson plans, and running errands – oh, and trying to spend time with The Three Little Monkeys.

During my summer “break,” I use the time to:

Attack my yard.  Landscaping.  Pulling up the ever-present ivy.  Cutting down wayward bushes.  Preparing the yard to TRY to get grass to grow.  Dirty sweaty work.

Clean my house.  And by cleaning – I mean THOROUGH cleaning.  Top to bottom.  Pulling everything out of cabinets.  Wiping the walls.  Reducing the layer of life that builds up during the school year.

Organize.  The storage room.  Closets.  Everything.

Paint.  The house I mean.  Not like PAINTING painting.  This summer, the Middle Monkey and I are going to finish turning his room into a solar system wonderland.

Make things for the upcoming school year.  Posters.  Charts.  Games.

Oh, and try to spend time with The Three Little Monkeys.

And before I know it, my summer break is over, and it is back to school I go.  And the cycle continues.

Well, back I go to continue my summer “vacation.”

I gotta say though, I’m getting one bitchin’ tan from all the yard work.

Reflections On a Nest

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I was working in the yard again today.  Yes, again.  Today’s task was to cut back the giant shrubs on the side of the house.  I cut them back once a year, basically using the loppers to reach as high as I can.  Not the best method, as there are always some branches that are too high for me to get to.  And of course, by the time they get that tall, the branch is also too thick for me to use loppers.  I decided this was the year that I needed to get those tall branches.  After all, some of them were reaching the second floor roof line, and nearing the power line into the house.  Time to lop them off.   The other day, in an act of desperation,  I even tried to STAND in one of the shrubs in my quest to reach those pesky tall branches.  Not one of my brightest moves.  My foot slipped and I now have three nasty bruises on my thigh.  I look like I have been mauled by some beast.  And yes, I was holding the loppers – and yes, I do realize I was lucky to only receive some bruises…

New plan.

This took me up to Home Depot to get one of those tree trimmers on a pole.  EXCELLENT!  So, today I was busily cutting away.  I mean some of these branches were at least seven feet long!  Whooo Hoooo!  Mission accomplished!

In one of the taller branches (one directly outside my bedroom window), I found this:

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It is gorgeous.  Made completely of grasses.  Intricately woven.  Easily eight inches tall from its base to the rim.  Inside as smooth as glass.  I marveled at its complex simplicity.  Then brought it in to the house for The Monkeys to see.  My first thought was that we could save it to put in our Christmas tree (a tradition in my family since we found a nest in our tree one year).  But, truly, this is a work of art.  So the decision was made to let it dry out (we’ve had a LOT of rain and everything is wet) and display it in the house.  As the art that it is.

I returned outside to continue working.

And there on the ground, right were I was working, were three little turquoise blue eggs.

Two of them had broken in the fall.  The third was intact.

The guilt washed over me.  That beautiful nest had been a home to these eggs, and I had destroyed them.

Of course, the teacher in me also found it a bit fascinating.  I mean, you can see the little embryonic birds.  But still.  I feel bad.

So, I bring the eggs into the house to show The Monkeys.

The Girl Child had the kind of predictable response of “EEEEWWWWW!”

The Middle Monkey – my little scientist – observed them, poked at them, and simply said, “Huh.”

The response of Monkey #1 was perhaps the most interesting.

He felt sadness.

Sadness for the death of the little birds.  Sadness for the mother bird at the loss of her babies.   “After all, the worst pain any mother can have is the loss of her babies.”

Here is a child who with his Asperger’s is not “supposed” to feel empathy for others.  To not to be able to relate to others’ pain.  But, Monkey #1, always different, seems to feel it more.  As I sat there on the stairs, showing them the eggs, he hugged me and said, “I hope you never have to know how it feels to lose one of us.”

Wow.

Me too neither.

So, my sweet, sensitive, Asperger-y Monkey #1 is insisting we bury the little ones.  To honor them.

And so we will.

And every time I look at that nest, I will remember that moment, and smile.

Melancholia

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Melancholia – (n) – The state of being melancholy.

I have been in a state of melancholy recently.

Maybe it has something to do with school being out, and having way to much time to think.

But, mostly, it is because I can’t seem to turn my mind off.  Oh, how I wish there was an off switch.  Better yet, I wish there was something I could do to wipe my brain.

As the “summer” progresses (being the school summer as technically we are still in spring), I find my mind going back to where I was last summer.  Things that I was doing.  Things that we were doing.  And that causes me to become melancholy.  Dates on the calendar, or events that have passed, or songs being played, bring me back to what at the time I believed was the most magical time of my life.  A new beginning.   A new life.

To paraphrase that song by The Kinks – “Melancholia will destroy you.”

Now, to get to work on developing that mind-eraser…