Random #94 - A Parenting Moment

My children, sitting in the couch, reading to each other. My 5-year-old reading his homework book to his big sister and my daughter reading hers to him. So cute. Full heart.

Random #93 - Cracks in Real Life

There's a crack in my windshield. We have to replace it. The whole thing. It looks like it started down low, behind the wipers. So of course, we didn't see it when it was a chip. Ugh.

Last Week #74 - Hiding

Like the main character in my work-in-progress, I want to hide from the world sometimes.

Besides working on this novel, putting together its bits and pieces, I've been thinking about changing the looks of my blogs. Maybe not this one, but my other one. I've been wanted to change it for a while. Something more modern looking maybe? This blog, I've been wanting to change some of the "gadgets", the bits and pieces that float around the posts. Something to make it feel a bit more me.  I suppose we'll see how both end up looking, as well as when I'll get around to doing it.

Life has still been hectic, unpredictable. Not just my life, but the life of those around me, the life of this world. 

I've still been writing though. It is where my focus goes when adult life isn't taking up all my time. Here's a bit of what I wrote this week. I'm not sure how I feel about it. A good lead into something else?

I was alone, staring up at the darkened ceiling. I lay flat, blankets up to my shoulders. I counted my breaths, in, one, two, three, four, out, one, two, three, four. I could feel my heart wanted to speed up in the dark. I needed it to slow. I needed calm so that I could sleep. I was tired. I spent all day tired. When exhausted, sleep should come easy, no? No.

I was trying not to see the blood. I tried only to see the ceiling or the blackness behind my eyelids. I tried to see nothing. I tried to hear nothing. There were still sounds. A car coming home late. The dog barking across the street. The scratch of something outside, the rustle of leaves. I search for the silence. 

I started listening for my sister, my sister who insisted on staying. I said I didn’t need her. Apparently, we both knew that to be a lie. I wish I had let her sleep in here like she suggested, like we were girls again, at home, whispering secrets. But we were adults now. I was asserting my independence, trying to show her that I was fine, that I could keep going with my life like nothing happened. Because nothing did. Not to me. Something bad happened to some people I knew, people I barely knew. Whatever was going to happen to them, yes, I was concerned, interested. I wanted to know more about Ben and if he was going to save them. Again?