Such Is My Reality

My life the past two weeks...First day of kindergarten. Search entire city of Tucson for a "KinderMat." First day of preschool. First day of preschool meltdown. Pink lunchbox. Blue lunchbox. Don't put the blue ice pack in pink lunchbox. Don't put the purple ice pack in the blue lunchbox. Wake up. Get the-not-a-morning-person-till-she-gets-her-morning-"milky"-little-girl her morning milk fix. Shower. Scramble eggs. Get kids dressed. Turn off Clifford. Brush kids teeth. Comb kids hair. Leave 2 minutes and 32 seconds to get myself dressed, put on makeup, brush my teeth, make sure my hair is doing whatever it does without being too crazy. Leave the house. No later than 7:41 am. Otherwise the kindergartner does not get there before the first bell. And he must be there before the first bell. Mama don't make me miss the first bell. Wade through morning traffic to the sweet little preschool. Drop off mostly grumpy little girl. Go to UA bookstore. Lug 100 pounds of textbooks over a mile to my car. Pre-employment drug screen. Pre-employment physical. Pre-employment paperwork. Show needy real estate client her 48th house. Pay my bills. Pay some more bills. What? Didn't we just pay the water bill? Trader Joe's. Target. Costco. Target, again. Nursing school orientation. Write needy client's third contract this month. Wait in a mile long line to pick up kindergartner. Take chihuahua to Auntie's house for a sleepover with cousin Mia. Pack for weekend camping trip to Mt. Lemmon. Notified by child that I have forgotten chocolate for s'mores. Trip to Walgreen's for Hershey bars. Came out with chocolate bars, bug catching nets, bubbles, facial cleansing cloths, apple juice, some velcro tennis ball and mitt game thingy. Waiting for Granny and Grampa to pick us up for camping. Try to squeeze in 10 more emails before I am sans technology for the weekend. Put tent up in the dark. Without husband. He's still in Tucson waiting for his paycheck. Paying more bills. Didn't grab the sleeping bags. It's kind of cold at night when you're at 8,000 feet - even in Arizona in the middle of summer. Thank goodness the well-prepared grandmother had a comforter. Little boy with tummy ache. Little girl who kept rolling off the air mattress. Mom in a tent in the mountains not getting sleep. But nice to get away before it all starts again. Full day of hospital orientation for new part-time job. Still need to get three more 20 pound textbooks. And a PDA. And some other stuff that I can't even remember at the moment. Realize little girl's 4th birthday is only 2 days away. Presents. Yeah...need those, too. Pink frosted cookies from Safeway bakery to share with little friends at preschool on birthday. Store-bought because parents are no longer able to take fresh-baked goods to school. Or cut fruit. Or fruit that requires slicing prior to serving. Or anything that is not commercially processed. With each and every ingredient labeled clearly on the package. So store-bought it is. At least it saved me from staying up until 1 am frosting little pink cupcakes. Now I have time to try and find a little bit of free space in my brain to even begin processing the thought of planning a birthday party. Worry that someone will make me feel guilty for not being on top of things. Oh, yeah, that person is me. First day of nursing school tomorrow. And my brain already hurts. Such is my reality.

Oh, Haiku - I Love You

I don't know if you noticed, but I wrote my recent post Blink as a series of haiku. Haiku are fun. Haiku are great. I might just start conversing in haiku prose from now on. That would be fun.

Here are a few for your reading pleasure. You can join in if you want - it's kind of addicting. What? What's that you say? What is a haiku?

haiku are easy
but sometimes they don't make sense
refrigerator
**this one is not my own - I found it while I was Googling haiku

tucson city street
potholes strewn like Mia's pearls
tires scream in pain
**this one is my own, and just for the record, Tucson streets leave a lot to be desired.

At least now you will understand what is going on when you see one of these little gems in the future instead of saying, "Hey...Candace has kinda lost it, dontcha know."

Barbara Bush Called - She Would Like Her Pearls Back

This is my niece-dog Mia.

She's pretty darn cute.

But she wears more jewlery than I do.

And she owns a cashmere sweater.

And I don't.



This is Josie.

She's pretty darn cute, too.

She lives somewhere amongst the 10 pillows on my bed.

She does not wear any jewels. Or clothes.




This is my nephew-dog Killian.

When he was a few months old.

Back when he weighed more than Brynn does now at the age of 4.

He does not need jewels. Or clothes. He is a MAN dog.




This is Killian all grown up.

He is big and handsome. He can be ridden by small children.

He is 6'2'' when he stands on his hind legs. His feet are like bear paws.

And he would LOVE to hang out with Josie and Mia.

He could wear them as accessories.

It's Like "Blades of Glory," Only Better

Men's Springboard Synchronized Diving.

Really? Are we sure this isn't a contrived competition that serves the sole purpose of promoting Will Ferrell's next movie? Something along the lines of Talledega Nights meet Semi-Pro meets Blades of Glory? Oh, Olympic Committee, what will you think of next?

Blink

gray december skies
platinum crown of silken hair
my heart grew tenfold

blink.

a sweet sleepless spring
tiny hands and clear blue eyes
you relied on me

blink.

ready to explore
held my breath and let you go
my heart walks around

blink.

little man, size 2
a wisdom upon your brow
you bring me purpose

blink.

independent boy
exact, precise, curious
my heart follows you

blink.

compassionate soul
butterfly kisses we share
you make my heart sing

blink.

across the schoolyard
that hair just gives you away
my heart skips a beat

blink.

a grand adventure
on your own - kindergarten
I blink and your gone

Let My Love Grow A Child That I Want To Hug & Kiss One Mintue And Then Flush Down The Toilet The Next

It is with much regret that I announce the quick departure of the congenial creature formerly known as Brynn. It was a lovely, soul-soothing 19 hours, 34 minutes, and 12 seconds. But as with all good things, they must come to an end. A turbulent and bitter strife.

If the transition were played out on the big screen, we might have the Beatles' "Helter-Skelter" accompanying the pandemonium that is Brynn going from my "sweet little bean" to the writhing creature that has arrived straight from the depths of the fiery pit that is borderline-toddler-personality-disorder. Oh, I kid. I think.

Yes, I kid. Brynn just likes to exercise her control. And independence. And obstinance. And tenacity. And control - did I already mention that? She throroughly enjoys testing her parents coping skills. And patience. She likes to enforce the strict rule of keeping us on our toes at all times by delivering inconsistency 24 hours a day - that's our Brynn. And we love her. To no end.

While the child may cause me to have severe panic attacks and raise my anxiety levels to disproportionate levels, I know that one day she will be a strong, independent young woman. That is if I don't flush her down the toilet first.