you know i love you

Let's start with a story, though it may be a story focusing on the worn out cliche about the simplicity and joy of children, I love it all the same. On of my preschool dancers (two years old) walked up to me on Monday as we were helping the girls try on their recital costumes, looked me in the eye, put her hand on my shoulder and said, "You know I love you." I said, "Really?!" And she said, "Yes. I love you," and grinned. So I said, "Well, I love you!" and she jumped in my lap and gave me a huge hug (huge for such a small person at least). I thought, I wish I had the conviction to tell the people around me "You know I love you." I proceeded to make a mental list of all the people I would tell and all the people who may never know. That may seem to be an odd statement, but it has just become "one of those things;" we hesitate to express our love for others because "that might be weird." Well, yeah, but at least I can treat you in a way that shows you how much I care, so that will be my alternative until I get brave. I'm really not terribly brave though, sometimes I just forget to doubt.

So much has happened since I last wrote, if I covered it all I think you would stop reading. I think I've covered some of my most emotional ground during the lapse, but it is probably better I didn't write about it. Now there is hindsight, possibly insight, but I'm not sure of the difference necessarily. I read something that said "Insight is just a rearrangement of available facts." What do you think?

My mom and sister are here for the weekend, and I'm glad. Since they were planning to come visit, I had to clean. Scary. One of the goals for the weekend is closet organization. Slowly and surely it will happen and maybe I will be able to function like everyone else who doesn't throw everything on the floor of their closet. I did some laundry; I washed those shirts, and I put them away. I put them away, nice, clean and folded, not at all resembling how I feel about my association. What else should I have done? Out, messy and unkempt is what they should be, wrinkled and worn on the bedroom floor, a more accurate reflection of something that would be much easier if it could be washed, folded and put away. But it just can't, and it won't allow itself to be treated that way.

Anyways, Happy almost St. Patrick's Day. It is my favorite holiday (I don't know why), and I wish I was back in Ireland. That would be quite nice. I wore green today (I start celebrating early), and I hope you did the same.

it's been a long time, been a long time

It has been a while. I've upgraded to this "new" blogger bit and here we go. I'm at work so I can't really write much right now, but I can say that my life is drastically different from the last time I wrote. I have smiled, cried, laughed, hurt, loved, and gotten a few pedicures. We've been through Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year's, Valentine's Day and soon we are approaching one of my favorites, St. Patrick's Day.

I have resolved to blog again. Though I still refuse to blog just about my day and the monotonous events that create it. I will continue to write as I have, probably sharing too much, but if not now then when? So until the next post (it will be sooner than later)...

bear hugs and eskimo kisses.