I’ll forget that I wrote this in a couple of months. A great idea about a blog post will strike and I will have to search my blog to see if I have ever written about my memory or lack thereof. True story. Been there done that. I suffer from what is not clinically known as a piss poor memory. I go through life in a haze. My childhood friends ask me most ridiculous questions. Don’t you remember so and so? Don’t you remember my mom’s foyer table? What did you eat yesterday? And I look at them with a dumb look on my face.
My memory has always been horrible. Continue reading
I have just finished watching my son play in the backyard. He has been jumping on the trampoline for the last twenty minutes. I picked him up from his after-school activity, parked in our garage and he threw down his backpack and ran back outside. “I need to get my energy out mom!” he said. He jumped up and down with obvious joy. The leaves from previous years gently blew around on the ground and the smell of spring was in the air.
I couldn’t stop smiling.
He would then suddenly stop and sit and gaze into the woods. I wondered what deep thoughts he harbored when suddenly he would bounce back up in such an abrupt manner, that even Tigger would have been surprised. Bounce! Bounce! Bounce! The joy he felt was infectious. My heart started to burst wide open, because after all, isn’t it the most simple things in life that truly bring happiness? For a brief moment I thought that perhaps I would sneak out there one night and bounce around. I still may try that; alone and in the dark during a time when no one would see! Perhaps I will need to wear Depends. You ladies know what I mean. Childbirth doesn’t make it easy to bounce. I’ll also need a sports bra. OK got it. I will be prepared and I will bounce. Continue reading