How Do Fish Sleep?

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Jake:  “I need to be really careful walking around outside, so nobody sees my gun.”

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Eli:  “When Jake gets sick he has to have multiple throw-ups.  I’m usually better after just once or twice.”

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Jake:  “Mommy, will you write with me?”

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Eli:  “What’s a Bottom Feeder?”

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Jake:  “Mom, let me show you my world!  I made libraries, and Eli has rooftop terraces overlooking the ocean!”

Eli:  “Look, I have a zoo!  And Daddy’s in the Zoo!”

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There is an innocence about how we spend our days.   I know I can’t make my children stay children, but what I love most about being a Mom is seeing life through this lens of simplicity.

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On the playground, we adults are united in distraction away from the complicated things that we are, or think we should be.  Away from work and difficult people, not thinking about the growing heaps of laundry, forced to redirect our attention to pushing swings and kicking soccer balls.  Which half of this existence is the distraction?  Which is the version that’s real?

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“My blankie smells old but in a good way; not like slobber.”

“I totally get why those girls were suspended for smearing Nutella all over the bathroom.”

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I get notices from Amazon in my inbox when the boys download apps onto their Kindles.  This month it was Car Tow Truck Driver Simulator, Winter Road Trucker 3D, and Off Road Vehicle Safari.

In the sleepy morning before school, Mike and I wake up to make coffee, a ritual that also includes cleaning the sticky handle of the refrigerator door and wiping the goo off the toaster.  After work I come home to piles of shoes by the door and banana peels in the sink.  Sometimes I feel resentful of these things.  Why doesn’t the smoke detector stop beeping?  Why doesn’t it just keep beeping?  How do we figure out which one needs the new battery, when it only beeps once every 10 minutes and we have 4 smoke detectors in the house?

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While doing yoga, I’m up close and personal with my floor, and I ponder the congregation of dust bunnies under the couch.  I wonder why they collect like that?  Is it electrostatic?  The wind?  Does the addition of my hair and the cat’s hair turn the dust into tumbleweeds?  Or is it loneliness?  Does dust get lonely?  I think about things like planetary motion and the shape of DNA unwound in the nucleus while I do housework.   Perhaps something is wrong with me… ?

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There is a solar system hanging from the ceiling in Jake’s and Eli’s bedroom, thanks to Mike and an afternoon of paper mache.  In my bedroom, Harry Potter sits on the nightstand with The Guinness Book of World Records, and the bed is wrinkled by somersaults that were done mere minutes after it was made.  There is just something about a freshly made bed that invites somersaults.

From the living room, I hear music while I change my clothes after work.

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There are also many wonderful things to notice, and so many wonderful things to see.

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Sometimes parenthood feels like a battle against entropy, and I think the real discipline is not quieting one’s mind, but accepting that entropy will always win.

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And maybe accepting that it’s okay to have a drink at school events, without shame.

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Speaking of drinks, this is a Lillet Spritz I shared today with a good friend.  Thank goodness for friends.  Thank goodness for Austria.  Thank goodness for uncontrollable  Entropy.

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