ignorance

There were so many turtles.  We stopped by the shores of the pond to stretch our legs before getting back in the car for the long drive home and the turtles popped up from all over.  Their heads barely breaking the surface to study us before pulling back underneath only to pop up again a few feet closer.

There were so many turtles.  I think they must get fed by the strangers and daily visitors and maybe even by the people who maintain the adjacent park because why else would they come fearlessly close to investigate us?  They must expect food from the people who visit their pond.

There were so many turtles and I do not think we were supposed to feed them, but when I look at this picture I can’t help but feel that perhaps I was wrong.  Perhaps we were supposed to feed them.  Perhaps that was the cost for visiting their shores and strolling through their park.

There were so many turtles and I hope they can forgive me my ignorance if I have done wrong.

ducky

Ducks don’t roar…
Do they?

The days have become very loud in the kingdom. The little prince and the littler prince have started playing a game where they roar at each other. They are fierce and fearsome. They are wild and chaotic.

So, you know, they are basically just normal kiddos.

Then, when they get tired of roaring at each other, they join forces and roar at anyone else they encounter in their jumping, rolling and frolicking tornado of noise and destruction swirling through the kingdom. Sometimes they are monsters. Sometimes they turn their toys into the monsters. Sometimes they have rubber duckies fiercely roaring…

Ducks don’t roar?
Well, as it turns out, sometimes they do.

one moment

Adulting is hard.

Parenting is harder.

But then there are moments where everything comes together…

Picture, if you will, a simple car ride up the street to run an errand, four-year-old ensconced in his chair in the back, and a familiar tune begins to play through the speakers.  My voice comes in to join the singer’s, as is my way, and a small voice from the backseat chimes in.  And there it is.  I’m singing in the car with the little prince.

I didn’t ask him to sing.  I didn’t force him to learn the words.  It was a familiar song, yes, one I’ve played a lot, one that I’ve sung to a lot, one he has sung to before on his own at home.  He memorized the words on his own, though, and in that moment he chose to sing with me rather than just listen, rather than telling me stop singing so he could sing, rather than telling me to stop so we could just hear the true artist.  He joined his voice, small as it was, so we would be singing together.

I don’t know that I could adequately explain why that meant so much to me, both in general and on that day and I doubt he had any idea, but I nearly cried.  I grew up singing in the car.  Some of my earliest memories are of my dad thumping a steady rock beat out on the center console while the whole car exploded with our (often terrible) singing.  Leaving that image as is, perhaps it is best to only add that music has always played a major role in who I am, from casual listener, to instrumental student, to DJ…  Music has defined many of the milestones of my revolutions around the sun.

Adulting is hard and parenting is harder and that’s okay because I’m occasionally given moments of such joy that I know all the struggles are worthwhile.  Singing in the car with the little prince was one of those moments.  I can’t wait to do that again.  I can’t wait to see what the next moment will be too.

The song ended and I turned in my seat to say over my shoulder, my voice catching a bit in my throat and my eyes straining to hold back the tears while a smile lit my face, “I love you, kiddo.”

“Why?”

Adulting is hard.

Parenting is harder.

made it

We made it!  30 days and 30 pictures and 30 sometimes rambling, sometimes long, sometimes short, sometimes nonsensical, sometimes fiction but mostly non-fiction, sometimes poetic accompanying words.  What can I say, that’s how I roll here in the Kingdom these days.  Congratulations to all you nano poblanos, you tiny peppers, you cheer peppers, you bloggers extraordinaire for once again seeing it through to the end.  Great job.  You are all amazing.

And now to sign off the way every major event should, and usually often do:

With fireworks!!

then again, maybe not

I should be sleeping,
Well, that was true when I wrote this, but not now that it is published.
Then again, perhaps I should be sleeping now too.
At some point, I really should sleep.
Maybe tomorrow.

It would be grand to be dreaming,
Of the mountains or the past or the future or anything with my eyes closed.
Then again, I should be careful what I wish for.
At some point, the nightmares might creep,
To my sorrow.

I should be sleeping,
But instead I’m scheduling additional posts for this week to be shared.
Then again, words are often my salvation.
At some point, I might hit upon a truth seep.
Maybe tomorrow.