The Violence of the Peanut.

The Peanuts love to fight.

And I'm inclined to let them at this point, as it seems to be the kind of thing where if I ignore it now, it will solve itself before they get too rambunctious.

My sister and I fought like dogs for years, and finally we just stopped. So I'm hoping to accelerate that process.

Also. As a side effect, maybe Peanut #1 will be less tattly

price of being busy

We do amazing things, the Project Manager and I, but it eats all our time.

And we tend to fall down in heaps about 9 pm and not get back up again, and that means laundry, dishes, and everything else conceivable piles up

Everything except the awesome things.

Sounds ok, right?

But the cracks are starting to show.

The Project Manager and Peanut fight more or less continuously (because Peanut is 3) and there's no time to reset, start over, etc.

Peanut #2 is more or less a barbarian child... and some point I should be doing more lawn and garden work.  Also, I should get the snow tires off the car before we go camping this weekend.

I guess that's the price of doing all the awesome things.

Summer is come

Hoo - ey is hot.

It's like 29-30 in Prairie Metropolis this week

And there's much work to be done around the house, and around the yard and Peanut #1 starts soccer, and so on and so forth and it's incredibly busy and all boo on this.

Too much busy, not enough Stealthy Dachshund

Things to care about

And this morning Peanut #1 informed us that she's afraid of her teacher.

So Social Justice will have to shut up and sit down over there while we sort out that fresh Hell.

(note: we think, possibly, it is because she is afraid of how tall her teacher is. I sincerely hope that is the case)

Too much comet tail

Right.

FB reminded me that today is the 101st anniversary of the AnZac landings.
And also that Target is an ally in trans- rights struggles.
And that I should read fewer parenting books.
And that the struggle for race rights needs my help.
And that I should Like a picture to make my city build a village for homeless people.

And I found myself not caring. At all.
And then I was guilty.
And then I was mad that I was guilty.

But I still don't care. I am too tired to care about bee populations, Nigerian girls, great barrier reef bleaching, Syria, or the other 85 things that I am asked to fix.

I feel like a comet, dragging a trail of responsibility debris around behind me.

That tail is too long. I divorce my tail.

The world will have to fix itself.

To James and Ryan

Listen. I love you guys.

Can we work on posting maybe just one less humourless self-righteous thing per day?

Art

I have a painting of a pig in a lab coat flying over some sheep on computers.

I love it so much.  The Project Manager does not. Especially when I mounted it on the stairwell down from the bedrooms at eye level.

I have a lot of art, a LOT of art, and It needs to all be on the walls, so this is a big push for us for this summer.

It's going to be a challenge, I think, but if we go at it one piece at a time I think we can put it all up and preserve our marriage

I want to have one of those houses that has a million pieces of art all over the place.  The Project Manager wants all that art to match.
:D