I struggled today as I tried to "live in the moment." I just wanted to ignore my kids and watch my herb garden grow, browse the Internet and talk on the phone. But then I had a revelation. I realized that I already am pretty good at living in the moment. Isn't that what bloggers do - live everyday on the lookout for a bloggable moment? Of course I don't have the patience to record every memory that happens each day, but I do take the time to look for them. In fact just two weeks ago I was mentally selecting the adjectives I would use in my post the next day as I cleaned the vomit-soaked sheets and dinosaur pajamas of a puking 17 month old child at 2:30 in the morning. I never did get around to blogging the next day because I was busy with my parents visiting me, but it was going to go something like this:
"I heard him crying and I knew. I knew it wasn't hunger. I knew it wasn't teething. I knew that I was about to find a puddle of puke. The cry just had that familiar gurgle to it. I reluctantly rolled out of bed as the TV, that I had forgotten to turn off before falling asleep, lit my way with the flickering tail end of the Carson Daly show. I walked pass the baby crib, thankful that the baby was still asleep, and made my way to the boy's room. Yep! There was the dinner remnants I had envisioned spewed on his blue gingham jersey cotton crib sheet. I placed him in the tub and washed the ebony colored beans and undigested rice from his hair and neck crevices. Then I took him to my room and sprawled an old ugly blanket on top of my bed and then instinctively held a towel in front of him for the hurl that was about to occur. Finally, after performing a surgeon scrub down, the boy and I slept uncomfortably the rest of the night. "
So, yeah, I'm living in the moment. I'm a blogger.
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