Holding On

People ask me why I never married. I smile and say that marriage wasn’t meant to be. I’m sure that they wouldn’t want to hear that I was abused during the last 10 years of my relationship and likely would have died from the abuse had I married.

People ask me why I never had kids. I smile and say that having kids wasn’t meant to be. I’m sure that they wouldn’t want to hear that I don’t want to bring a child into this world. I was assaulted by my “best” friend. To impose that on my spawn..I mean offspring, or worse be the source, is not an option.

People ask me why I don’t have a pet. I smile and say that I’m never home. I ask how that is good for the pet. I’m sure that they don’t want to hear that to this day, I have nightmares about forgetting to feed it or let it out. I wake up in a cold sweat when I touch its lifeless pet corpse.

People ask me why I don’t have a plant. I smile and say that I don’t have the proper growing conditions along with a black thumb. I’m sure that they don’t want to hear that I’m toxic and can’t even keep a plant alive.

Last August, my brother-in-law died. When I returned, my coworkers presented me with a beautiful plant. It had purple flowers. I was touched. In order to diffuse my tears, I made a joke to take bets on the survival time. Little by little, the flowers tumbled.

Then there was one.

Since November, the flower held on. People laughed and I gave it representation to all of us who hold on, despite the roughest challenges.

My former department took my job. I have a new job that I love, so there, former department. The person who took the main function is intelligent but VERY immature. While training, she fiddled with things at my desk. She spilled water and just couldn’t sit still. At first I thought she was like me some xxx number of years ago, but no.

Last week, she came to ask a question. True to her fiddling form, she started playing with my flower (stop it).

The flower popped off.

In mid-sentence, my eyes and mouth opened huge and my hand clamped over my mouth to stifle what my brain wanted to say. All that escaped was a squeak.

Before I knew it, she was running to her desk and returned with tape. She taped the flower back on and said, “all better, now. It will never die.”

The plant’s leaves are still green. The plant is still alive, but the flower is receiving no nourishment. As much as it hurts me, I’m going to let the flower go. Being forced to hold on is not the same as holding on.

Day 366

I think we should start the day off with a song.  If you recognize it, why don’t you join in…

Okay, here we go.

Happy Birthday to… oh, you do recognize it?  Okay, I’ll start over.  Everyone ready?

Happy Birthday to you.
Happy Birthday to you.
Happy Birthday Little Prince.
Happy first Birthday to you.

Thanks for singing along!  I knew I could count on my kingdomites to congratulate the Little Prince on a year in the life.

And what a year it has been…

Eight teeth.  Climbing up into chairs.  Running.  Yes, running.  Giggling.  Oh my, the giggling.  Shoving everything into your mouth.  The irresistible dimples.  Your stubborn and defiant personality.  I can’t imagine where you get that from.  Your strength.  The funny way you have started asking for things.  Slapping is fine for now but you’ll have to give that up fairly soon.  The words that are almost there.  The adventures you’ve already had.  The bumps and bruises.  The parenting fails you survived.  You.  Are.  A.  Delight.

I can’t wait to see what the next year has in store for you.

And the year after that…

Happy Birthday, my son, my Little Prince.  Your mom and I are completely entranced by your cuteness, your shenanigans, your enchanting eyes, the person you have already started to become.


Go ahead and leave a happy birthday message for the Little Prince in the comments if you want.  Or, tell me about your favorite birthday memory as a child, or a parent.  Something funny?  Something heartfelt?

Maxwell’s Silver Hammer


Her child’s cry came, as always, at the wrong time.  She was elbow deep in an endless pile of dishes, and to go to him she would have to pull her gloves off, wash away the excess bubbles, and find a clean dish towel to dry her hands.  The last time she’d done that he’d only wanted a glass of water and he was old enough to do that on his own, finally.

She turned off the faucet, and then judging the stress in his voice, the sense of urgency, and the general location, she determined that he was still sitting in front of the TV and wasn’t in any immediate danger.  She hadn’t wanted to be one of those mom’s that just yelled from room to room rather than encouraging the behavior of getting up and having a conversation face-to-face, but it had already been a long day.


She tried to keep her frustration out of the reply, and was pleased with how sweet her question sounded.

“Something’s wrong with Maxwell?”

She wracked her brain but couldn’t place the name.  It didn’t sound like any of the characters from the shows he normally watched.  “You’re watching TV, right?”


She waited for him to elaborate.  She sighed audibly when she noticed the small pool of water at her feet that had dripped off her gloved hands while she’d been distracted.  One more thing for her to clean.

After a nearly unbearable minute, “So, what’s wrong?”

“He’s acting strange.  Normally he’s funny.  Or, he’s just there, not doing much.  But, right now he’s being mean.  He’s got this great big silver hammer and he’s smashing things with it.”

She furrowed her brow in confusion.  That didn’t sound like any of the approved shows the smart chip was supposed to allow her son to find.  She didn’t want him to think she didn’t pay attention to the things that were important to him, but she was forced to ask, “Who’s Maxwell again, darling?”

“The pig.”

“The pig?”

“Yeah, from those commercials.”

“The car insurance commercials?”


“And, what’s he doing?”

“Mom!  I already told you!  He’s got this great big silver hammer and he’s going on a totally berserk rampage.  He’s smashing everything and everyone in sight!”

Water continued to drip from her hands as she sprinted out of the kitchen…


This bit of silliness is my humble submission for Merry’s “A Beatles Contest!”  Everyone is welcome to join in the fun.  You’ll earn a new shiny badge for your blog if you do, and you could win a guest post, and all you have to do is:

Write (or draw…or both!) a post based on one of the songs [below]. Link it back to this post so that everyone has a chance to see the fabness that you created.

All entries will be judged by Paul.


Here are the songs:
All My Loving
Day Tripper
Helter Skelter
Maxwell’s Silver Hammer
Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds

You definitely want to join in the fun, right?  Get to it!  Write it, draw it, paint it, create it, then link it and post it, and, voila, you’re entered!

V is for…

The Queen and I have been reading  books to The Little Prince very night as part of the bedtime routine.  Which makes sense, because we are awesome parents, but that’s beside the point.  One of the books we’ve been reading to him is an alphabet book.  After a couple times through we both realized there was something very wrong with it.

It starts off perfectly fine:

Child book shenanigans: A is for Awesomesauce!
That’s a delicious looking APPLE.

A is perfectly normal.  How about B?

I’d feel perfectly safe heading out beyond the breakers in that BOAT.

And so it goes.  Innocent.  Normal.  Expected.  Everything you could want from a starting alphabet book.

But then we come to V.

Here is a list of V words that would be better than what is in the book:

Vegetable: yummy, yummy, for your tummy.

Violin: a stringed instrument that can make music soar.

Vacuum: how we clean up after two messy cats.

Vector: magnitude and direction.

Volume: what Daddy has to turn up when the little one starts screaming.

Valium: what Mommy has to take to make it through the day.

Velociraptor: a dinosaur that isn’t living under your bed.  Probably…

Yes, all of those would have been better than this:

V is for the Windowless Child Abduction van that drives (us) far away?

Seriously?  VAN?  All the potential V words out there and they went with van… and that’s the picture they went with… and it drives far away…

What exactly are we teaching our kids here?