Soul Crushing

That Moment...

When you walk in the front door

.after working a nine-hour day at an automaton job

.after driving in a car with no air conditioning

.to pick up three kids who have been outside all day and are exhausted

.and you step from the blistering heat into the dry cool air of your apartment

.only to realize your day might be over but your evening stretches out in long swaths of hours and minutes in front of you with nothing but running and fetching and cooking and bathing and calming and soothing for the next five hours?

That moment is soul crushing.

It's a damn good thing those kids are cute or I'd be a mess...

Babysitting Louis

I got to steal my nephew away for a few hours last week.

And I have officially discovered the joy of nephews.
We got to hold him and spoil him and coo at him and when we'd done all that?
We got to give him back.

Why did I even bother having kids? This is SO much better!

  

Louis: The world's most laid-back baby EVER.

Unless he's hungry, or had three cousins in his face trying to play with him at once for a few minutes. Then watch out, this kid's got a set of pipes on him!

The Monkey has proceeded to ask me two questions every single day since our first baby-sitting adventure:

1) When do we get to babysit Louis again?

Answer: as soon as his parents will let us!

and

2) When does she get a little brother?

Answer: Kid. It's so not happening.

'Merica. We love you.

So here's a quick recap of our Fourth of July celebrations.

Just a couple of weeks late.

Oops.

Happy Birthday, USA.

wish

My wish for you…

Even now, when I feel empty for the ache of you at my side, I wish for your happiness above all. I hope you’re laughing, and giving someone that derisive twist of a smile that everyone but me seemed to find vaguely condescending. I found it charming and horribly sexy. I hope you have legos underfoot where you are. I hope you’re three steps into a random DIY project that involves dropping something that will shatter out of a second-story window. I hope you have three kinds of ice cream in your freezer and a jar of hot fudge in the fridge. I hope you have something to blow up soon so you don’t fall out of practice. I hope you have a bar close enough to stumble home from after drinks with your brothers. I hope you’ve fallen into a routine, but not too strict of one. I hope you have time to sleep in, time to relax, time to realize the weight of the world doesn’t rest solely on your shoulders even though you think it must. I hope you laugh. Often. Because it transforms your entire face and makes you seem years younger. I hope you find someone to tease you mercilessly about your staunchly unartistic views on life. It’s good to be challenged. Sometimes the best mix of people includes those on complete opposite ends of the spectrum. I hope you’re watching dinosaur movies and being corrected on the names of them. I hope you miss me, just a little, even though it’s selfish of me to even think it. I hope you find contentment in the small victories and everyday occurrences that most people rush by on the way to their next job, next meeting, next big thing. I hope you’re happy, wherever you end up. Even if it's not with me.

The Head and the Heart

There is something about outdoor shows that I had forgotten I loved.

The way the audience's collective voice swells, then echoes off the thin metal sides of food trucks and temporary bar structures and hastily constructed stages. The way it seeps back in under your skin, despite the layers of sweat and salt and sun. They way it reverberates in your chest and your stomach and your heart.

And there is especially something about the singular wail of The Head and the Heart's Charity Thielen that slips up under your skull and settles there, heavily. Point and counterpoint to the soulful wailing of Josiah Johnson and Jonathan Russell, metered by the and the jittery skitter-gallops that can't seem to contain as he leaps around the stage, crashing at times into and off of the drum kit (much to the delight of my son who jumped & pointed and howled with laughter at it all). 

Nights like Saturday's Party in the Park at Opti Park in Broad Ripple remind me that I need to get out much, much more. Thanks for everyone who helped make that night a success. And kudos to those who did, with a sold out show of 5,000+ tickets (not even counting the throngs of eight-and-under freebies I saw