if you must know

The heat kicked on overnight. I was so snug in my bed that I didn't think to get up so it was a little bit of a Chinese fire drill in our hurried house this morning. I scrambled the eggs while T. Bone helped Miss Bit with her math homework. The homework we just sorta forgot to do last night. He practiced his book share one last time and still had a few minutes to play with the cats. They were at school with minutes to spare.

Today was wear red day for school spirit week. The only red Miss Bit has hanging in her closet are Christmas dresses so she opted to wear blue and green and sparkles and she couldn't have been any happier. At six, she already has such strong opinions about clothing. We spar in the mornings over everything from head to toe...that is to say from headbands to socks. It's exhausting, and let me just state for the record that I give her a whole lotta leeway. This morning I heard myself going where I vowed to never go: "When I was a little girl, I didn't have a whole closet full of clothes. I didn't have choices like you. I had to wear the same things over and over whether I liked them or not because that's what I had," and on and on and on. For the rest of the week, I'll get my way, and then the whole cycle will start anew next week. And also just for the record, I can still hear my Mom saying things like that to me when I was a little girl, and it makes me smile. I know I'm not doing any permanent damage is what I'm trying to say. I realize there's a rather fine line between ladeling with guilt and instilling appreciation, and I'm willing to walk it because I think too many children have a sense of entitlement. Realize there's also a tenuous realtionship between empowerment and entitlement.

And speaking of my Mom...ever since I pulled up a random website and heard Chuck Mangione's Feels So Good the other day, I have this heaviness in my heart. I cannot explain it because I think it's such a happy song...so full of joy. I sat at my desk listening to it and sobbing for the five or so minutes it played and my whole life flashed before my eyes. I was paralyzed by the fast-paced cerebral slide show of my 41 years of living. The song reminds me of my childhood, but it's my Dad who was the Mangione fan. I guess hearing the song made me feel like a little girl again. A little girl who needs and wants her Mom.

Don't even get me started on The Time Traveler's Wife. We watched it last night and I was utterly captivated by it all, of course, to the point of contained crying jags. My hubby knew though. He always knows when I'm stiffling my tears and sniffles. Stories of love and loss affect me deeply and especially when I'm feeling particularly exposed. I'm adding Niffennegger's novel to my must read list. I think it's about #500. One can dream.

I'm off for some fresh air. It's a gray cloudy, cool morning. The perfect day for walking through my thoughts.