Category Archives: Words

Harvest Banquet

It tastes like the horizon right before its fade to blue-black.

That vibrant hue of fat round pumpkins,

leaves that have gently released their hold on an overcrowded branch

or

fruit that dangles, trusting the heavy green boughs of the orchards.

 

Drink it down,

licking the sweet slick from your lips

until you’re pleading another (just one more) sip-

When you’re full, pulpy, radiating the glow of an oompa-loompa, you’ll rival the sun

eyes stinging from the burn of citrus spray your thumbnail released…

 

Some people want to taste the rainbow-

but this time of year

I’d rather swallow a sunset.

Sunset2014

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For MamaKat’s Writing Workshop:

Write a post (or, in my case, some poetry)inspired by the color ORANGE. 

Mama’s Losin’ It

The Thing You Never Knew

You’re not going to believe me when I tell you but last summer I wanted to die.

I didn’t have a plan or attempt it at any time but a small, unreasonable piece of me thought this world would be better off if I was gone.

The feelings I was having last year in the middle of my favorite season were crude and disruptive. They made it hard to sleep or smile. But I did, I smiled even as the voices inside my head told me how unworthy I was, what a horrible person I had turned out to be and there was no quieting them. I would cry into my pillow, I would sit on the couch and watch the world go by. I would dream of my funeral and wonder if anyone would miss me, if anyone would even bother to show up.

I was disheartened and depressed.

Not sad.

Sadness had come and gone and left a lousy house-guest sitting in the middle of my chest that said awful things to me, ruined my furniture and self esteem and made itself at home in the deep corners of my mind.

I was down in the mire and fought every day to claw my way to the top of the pile, to laugh with other people and hide the darkness that threatened to engulf me.

And some days were okay and livable and some days were not but like so many of us are sharing our feelings after the news of the suicide of Robin Williams,I was ashamed of my sadness.

After all I was everyone’s cheerleader and unconditional supporter and I felt like I had no right to be upset or sad, or even if I did, I needed to get over it and move on with my life. Our society has no room for rumination or regrets that swallow us whole.

So I played the part I have perfected, that of consoler, bridge builder and optimist,  never letting on how much I was hurting.

I had felt this way before, most recently during the four hellish years of our infertility. I learned to force smiles, bury pain and fake my way through the days. But once the boys were born and I narrowly escaped PPD I truly believed I had no right to have bad days.

I was lucky.

Even after I was diagnosed with fibromyalgia and complex migraines I knew I was lucky to have healthy, happy children and a diagnosis where my disease wasn’t debilitating.

So lucky. 

I had a husband who loved me, the sons I had prayed for and family/friends/ villages who reminded me often how much I meant to them. I was working in a time when so many other people had lost their jobs and I had a home, a car and a very cute dog.

Can you hear those voices?

“You have nothing to be unhappy about.”

So I sank deeper into the pit because now I was obviously ungrateful.

“Don’t you know how lucky you are?” 

I hated myself and I hated feeling so helpless in my quest to change my thinking.

The only person who heard this secret  was my husband last autumn and after the fact when I  believed I was past the worst of it and had changed my medication, somewhat settled my mind and put one foot on the path to self forgiveness.

And then Ben died.

Ben, who was bright and talented but who had his own demons; my baby brother who had battled against the bottle and the sweet sirens of drugs in his young life, Ben who had been spiraling, sad and we didn’t know.

So bad genetics and depression took him away from us and I waited, again, for it to find me.

But I also knew I needed to take care of my family who were reeling from his devastating death. I needed to keep watch over my mom who had now lost a child and my sister, my mind still haunted by her own failed attempt to leave this world decades ago.

We were lucky to be alive, lucky to be survivors. 

Once again I reminded myself there was no time or reason to be sad.

And yet I was, because even the sadness was genetic.

It started slowly, an anxious moment here or a mild panic attack there until I felt myself slipping backwards into the darkness.

It is an endless battle.

Day by day, I fight against the constant ache of my fibro; a slight headache always threatening to become fierce and the stress of everyday living, to be better.

I have bad moods and selfish moments  and crying jags that leave me breathless but (thank God) I haven’t thought about dying once.

I’m lucky 

Instead I try…

To see the good.

To know there is no easy way out.

To be a wife to John, a mommy to Giovanni and Jacob, a sister and a daughter, a friend, a flawed but happy human being.

I am taking my medication.

I practice gratefulness in every way I can.

I reach out when I need to, I say the words “I’m not okay” and I allow people to help me.

Because there is no coming back, there is no alternative or plan B if I don’t.

******

Pouring my Heart Out with my amazing friend Shell. 
Please don’t suffer in silence or believe you are alone.

You’re not.

The National Suicide Prevention Lifeline is 1-800-273-8255.

Welcome to My Wheelhouse {Twisted Mix-Tape Tuesday}

My Skewed View

This week for Jen’s awesome TWISTED MIX-TAPE TUESDAY the theme is

CHEATING SONGS.

Long ago and far away, before I became a very boring married lady I was a cheater.

I guess it’s not politically correct to admit that is it?

It makes it sound like I was never quite satisfied with what I had doesn’t it?

Yet, the truth was that I believed in love so deeply and so desperately that I knew that I could love two people at once.

And I did.

I have been in love, (“torn between two lovers” so to speak  although I didn’t use that song)  more than once or twice in my life.

I won’t get into a big discussion about how you feel about cheating or how the world feels about it , but I will tell you that I hate that word.

I hate the things it implies; as if there is only room in someone’s life for only one person, only one person to give you everything you need.

I understand the need for it in conventional society and why we preach monogamy(which is why I decided to marry) , but when you Google “cheating songs” and are presented with pages of responses you come to realize that it happens. Often.

Wow, do we love to hear songs about it.
Angry songs, sad songs, pleading songs, redemption and retribution songs.

So, I have a mix tape of all of them right here for you.

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This song reminds me of the movie “Someone Like You” with Ashley Judd and (hottie) Hugh Jackman. After she gets into a relationship with Greg Kinnear, where she believes that he was free and available she finds out that he is the ex of her female boss, who wants her man back.

For such an upbeat backbeat, this song and it’s refrain of

“did you stand by me? 
No, not at all.” 

says all you need to know about being hurt by the cheating.

Train in Vain (The Clash)

 

My angry, bitter, and whoa is this song sexy, tribute to cheating, lying and coming back for more. If you don’t turn this up and pound on your steering wheel when you have it at 10 decibels, then you’ve never really felt the passion of sex.

“Just gonna stand there and watch me burn, but that’s alright because I love the way it hurts. 

Just gonna stand there and hear me cry, but that’s alright because I love the way you lie.” 

Love hurts but sometimes the hurt feels so good. 

*ahem*

Love the Way You Lie (Eminem and Rhianna)

I always give you Adele, P!nk, Duffy, Gin and even Amy Winehouse because I love those ladies. But this a new song by Australian artist ZZ Ward that is in the vain of Jolene by Dolly Parton (A favorite of mine but one I didn’t use here)  and others like it about a woman asking the “other woman” not to take her man.

Hey, it’s got a great beat and you can dance to it. ;)

take what’s mine, don’t hurt me,
Steal my money, steal my car,
Don’t take my man, don’t take my man,
I said, don’t take my man ’cause you know you can,
Put the gun down, ooh

Put the Gun Down (ZZ Ward)

My all time, favorite, I play this song at least once a week, songs.

Billy Paul had it right.

Me and Mrs, Mrs Jones, Mrs Jones, Mrs Jones
Mrs. Jones got a thing going on
We both know that it’s wrong
But it’s much too strong to let it cool down now

Sometimes you meet someone and you do everything you can to say no to that attraction, you close down parts of yourself to be “good” and yet that relationship is a force of its own.

In my own life, many moons ago, I was there looking at both people and wanting them both.

Me and Mrs. Jones (Billy Paul)

This song is guaranteed to rip your heart apart. I’ve been the “other woman”. My husband was married (but on the verge of divorce) when we met. I am the success rate of those relationships, my husband left his wife and married me. But that doesn’t always happen does it? This song, written by Jennifer Nettles from events of her own life is such a true, honest depiction of how it feels to be the other woman.

The woman who loves him too, who needs him too. Those feelings are true and real, I assure you.

 

Why don’t you stay
I’m down on my knees
I’m so tired of being lonely
Don’t I give you what you need
When she calls you to go

Stay (Sugarland)

I always give you a song that reminds me of my dad don’t I? This song does and I love it.

A true throwback to the 70’s but such a great little ditty.

Enjoy.

I’d just like to know do you love him or just making time
By filling his glass with your fast flowing bitter-sweet lime.
He’ll taste the aftertaste when you come home late some night.
With your eyes all a mist from the smoke of a distant fire.

Smoke From a Distant Fire

When you remember those nights in his arms

You know you gotta make up your mind

Are you gonna stay with the one who loves you
Or are you goin’ back to the one you love?
Someone’s gonna cry when they know they’ve lost you
Someone’s gonna thank the stars above
The thing about loving two people is that your heart is always in two places and in a perfect world you can have both lives. That line about one person crying and another person being thankful for the second chance is lyric worthy, but the truth of it is that if you love someone, you never really stop, you just put it away so the rest of the world doesn’t see it.

Plus Glenn Frey is a favorite of mine, I love The Eagles and their storytelling voices.

 The One You Love (Glenn Frey)

Last, but certainly not least, is the man that got me through the 80’s with his pop songs and heart wrenching ballads but it was those solo albums before No Jacket Required that are my lifeline to love.

You see, I’d heard the rumours, I knew before you let me know
But I didn’t believe it, not you,
No you would not let me go
Seems I was wrong, but I love, I love you the same
And that’s the one thing that you can’t take away but just remember…

If leaving me is easy,
Coming back is harder…

The perfect song to end this mix tape I think…because inside cheating is always the possibility of leaving or staying or even coming back, but as he says, if leaving me was easy, you can’t expect that coming back will be.

If Leaving Me is Easy (Phil Collins)

 

Thank you , so much, for visiting.
I am enjoying being part of the CHORUS of this group, with special thanks to Jen for welcoming me back week after week.

If you’re not playing with us, what are you waiting for?

Introducing Precipice Volume 2 (The Literary Anthology of Write on Edge)

blog Precipice_print 3-D

“You never know what worse luck your bad luck has saved you from.” 

Cormac McCarthy, “No Country for Old Men” 

In the second volume of Precipice, twenty-four authors from the Write on Edge community explore the concept of luck in twenty-six works of poetry, short fiction, and memoir.

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See this little blonde haired girl?
KirGirl7

From the time she was old enough to read, she loved stories.

Loved hearing them, making them up, sharing them with anyone who would listen.

She dreamed of seeing her name on the cover of a book.

Today that dream comes true because alongside 25 other incredible authors I am proud and pleased to announce  that the release of PRECIPICE VOLUME 2 is ready to own.

I have a love story inside.

A story about dating, best friends and meeting your soul mate even when the timing might seem a little off.

Love that’s about LUCK and taking a leap of faith.

I hope you enjoy it, that you laugh and sigh your way through Kismet’s Kiss and then you get lost in the other offerings by some of the most incredible authors I know.

That little girl up there is so proud to have grown into this girl who still believes in love & luck, a girl who believes that dreams do come true because today she can say that she is a published author.

LYTMKir&DebCropped

So how can you get your copy of this incredible collection?

Precipice Volume 2 (The Literary Anthology of Write on Edge)

is available TODAY on: 

 Amazon Kindle and the Kindle App (click!) 

Amazon in Print /Paperback form (Click!) 

 All digital formats on Smashwords (click!)

In the next few weeks it will also be available on iTunes, Kobo and through Barnes&Noble.

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I would just like to publicly thank the staff of WRITE ON EDGE, especially Cameron, Angela, Mandy and Roxanne for their work, support and tireless dedication to the words and works of the WRITE ON EDGE community.

The Red Dress Club which eventually became Write on Edge lit the spark of my writing in 2010 and I will always be grateful to that tribe of incredible scribes for their support and encouragement.

I am so proud to be in your company.

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Now what are you still doing here?

Go Buy your copies!!!!

(I’m celebrating with cupcakes today…*wink*)

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THANK YOU FROM THE BOTTOM OF MY HEART.

xo

 Kirsignblueshoes20111

The Liebster Award Interview

  1. In less than 15 words (which means no more than 14, BTW), why do you blog?

To release the demons, to share the memories, to weave the daydreams, to remember.

What’s your No. 1 pick of your own set of posts that you’d MOST want to share with the entire world (which means more than just your Great Aunt Sally)? (Throw us a link in please.)

I am going to cheat (sorry Jody) but there are 2 pieces that I am most proud of:

Being Carried (about my journey through infertility and one day on my bathroom rug)

My Comments are like Cupcakes. (a personal piece about why I comment the way I do (see below) and how I believe in the power of good words and thoughts.

  1. Are you more often a “Liker” or a “Commenter” on blog sites? Why do you think that is?

(funny you should ask, see above…LOL)

I am a commenter. I’m old school blogger and I believe in building community and cultivating relationships. I will not go and read you and NOT comment. I’d rather only read 1/3 of people’s response to prompts or take a month to get through my email subscriptions in order to leave a heartfelt, thoughtful comment. I have long said that I don’t like when someone comes by to say “good job” and nothing else, I appreciate the visit but I do believe in quality over quantity. Maybe that’s why at 8 years of blogging, I only have 200+ people facebook fans, because I won’t beg, I won’t sell myself, I won’t advertise myself for the comments. I want the real “YOU”, I want the visit to mean something to BOTH of us.

  1. You’ve been granted the opportunity to meet anyone who has ever existed. Who would that be TODAY (because I understand that you might be in a different mood tomorrow) and why?

I want to meet Maya Angelou. I want her to look into my eyes and into my soul. I want her to hold my hands and hug me while I cry, big salty tears as she rocks me into believing good things about myself. I want to hear her low, tender voice give me advice as we sip tea and talk about everything and nothing. I want to leave her company, changed and better.  She is a hero to me, a voice that has changed my perspective so many times and I would love to be able to tell her that.

  1. What’s your favorite time of day and why?

I love the early early morning, I normally go to bed very early (before 9pm most nights) but now, in my 40’s, I wake up at all hours of the night. However, I wake up, even on weekends about 4:30 am. I love that time of the day. I write in my head, I scribble on my notepad next the bed; I get up and do laundry as the rest of my boys sleep. I will watch all my DVR shows without interruption and be able to process them. (of course, on the weekends I normally do about 2 hours of stuff and then fall back to sleep, having enjoyed my early morning production (wink) )

  1. What do you believe the most interesting/unique thing is about yourself? (You’re allowed to cheat by asking someone, if you don’t know!)

I should probably go to someone else for this, but I think that I am that rare person of empathy that can literally see all the sides of a situation. I understand why people do what they do and I give most people the benefit of the doubt. They always say every story has 3 sides and I pride myself on being able to see all 3 sides. It doesn’t make me very popular sometimes but I can’t help but put myself in someone else’s shoes in most situations.

 

  1. How do gargoyles on buildings strike you? (Please don’t say by falling on your head – I’m actually after your feelings on this one!)

This is an interesting question. Because in NYC , I adore the gargoyles, thinking that they are scaring away bad things and feelings from a building, a church. They are protectors.
Yet, in other places, if I am just shown a picture I find them ugly and creepy. Instead of scaring away something , they are instead scaring me. Maybe that goes to the  “every story has 3 sides” thing about me, I see them in both ways and react from my experience with that place and memory.

 

  1. If you were out of staples with no promise of future access to refill, would you use your stapler for anything? (Please expound beyond yes or no.)

I doubt it. The only thing I use my stapler for is for stapling papers and it’s not fancy, pretty or an engaging color. (Now if you asked me about my tape dispenser I’d say yes!!! Since it’s shaped like a HOT PINK STILETTO, I’d keep it on my desk without tape for a conversation piece and to make me smile.) A stapler without staples is useless to me. 

 

  1. If you could be the very best at something, but everyone would despise you; or mediocre at something and everyone love you – which would you choose? (Again, a little explanation is always a gracious addition.)

I think I am already mediocre at something and loved (enough). That’s blogging. I have all kinds of tribes (infertility, writing, and motherhood) and 8 years in cyberspace and I am not a published author, not a freelance writer, not flocked to for my content or fiction, but for whatever it’s worth I believe that people like me. That makes me happy, makes me grateful for the mediocre gift I do have.

Plus, being despised would be a nightmare for a people pleaser like me.

However, I don’t see it ever happening…me being BEST at something. Who wants to be perfect anyway? ;)

  1. What burning desire have you yet to accomplish?

I think to publish something with my name on it. I truly want to have a novella or a short story published that I can point to and says, “That’s mine”.

You see for 4 years I waited to get pregnant (then I waited 35 anxious weeks to hold my sons). For 31 years I waited to meet the man I would marry. I’m no stranger to WAITING and learning patience (I still have none). So I know that I must BURN to want to do it and soon that fire will light and I will point to something and say “Those are MY words, that is MINE.”

  1. How do you intend to fulfill your dream in #10?

I am going to wait for the BURN, I am knee deep in adding to a story I have already written, am writing a short story for Write On Edge and I am telling myself I am worthy of having something with my name on it out in the world. (that is the hardest part, convincing myself that I deserve to be published, or that I have enough talent to do it.) Once I get past my own insecurities, I know I’ll feel the warmth of a dream come true.

 

My writing path has taken me a lot of places the past 3 years.

It’s introduced me to some truly amazing voices and stories.

Just recently I met Jody of human Triumphant.

(if you’re not reading HER blog yet, you’re missing out)

She is an astounding storyteller and a sweet, engaging and wonderful human being.

Over the weekend she nominated me for a Liebster Award.


It’s been a very long time since I’ve gotten one, almost 6 years in fact. So for her to choose me was an unexpected and smile worthy surprise. I am more than happy to answer all your questions Jody and to tell you that I am humbled by your love, support and friendship.

I am going to celebrate 8 years of blogging this May and so as I answered these questions I was so aware of how lucky I am to still be here in the cyber world doing something I love….Writing

so thank you for dropping by and reading me, hope you enjoyed your visit to my corner.

 

 

 

Red Revolution

With a pencil I outline, laying out my territory, giving myself a map to follow.

While there is pink swept up the landscape of my face, blues and grays fighting to kiss my eyelids and a lavish brown brushing my lashes, holding them like soldiers at attention, the tint cannot be watermelon or rose.

This is no time to be Switzerland.

It needs to settle between Fire Engines and Cherries, Patriotic and Primary

A shade that will offset the black dress that is hugging my curves, embracing my hips like a lover and brushing my knees with satin ruffles.

Breathe fire into my countenance, twinkle the baubles dangling at my ears, enhance the spike of my three inch heels.

I judged the worthiness of it, scrawling lines of it against second rate cousins on the fleshy part of my hand, near my thumb. Standing in the aisle utilizing a lesson I was taught when I helped other women pursue a tube that would boost their attitude, heighten their own conquest.

It proved an ally, a true accomplice in my own battle.

It spoke to me of passion and hearts beating beneath lacy camisoles.

Leaning close to the mirror I apply the stain, painting inside the lines I’ve made.

Pursing my lips, allowing the color to saturate and soak into my skin like blood.

Finally, a sweep of gloss, my lacquered mouth resembling a carnival candy apple, hard and sweet.

If it spoke it would whisper, “Kiss me

I stand back, smile at my reflection; war paint in place.

 

Mama’s Losin’ It

 For MamaKat’s Writing Workshop this week one of her writing prompts was write a post :

Inspired by the word RED.

This is something I wrote in 2011 but it is still one of my favorites.

Thanks for visiting.

 

 

Sweet Thing {Trifextra}

 

blogcupccakeTrifecta

 

I feel pretty, oh so pre –

Hey sugar, admiring my come-hither shape?  

Stop! I’m blushing while you turn my insides to mush.

You’re such a tease, but I know you want me.

 

Trifextra this weekend.
Personification in 33 words.
I was going to use a shoe, but my birthday is coming up…;)

 

HAPPY WEEKEND, HAPPY WRITING!

 

When the Other Shoe Drops {Master Class & Trifecta}

Morphine makes me weightless, airborne, well at least for the first three minutes it did and then it just made me nauseous. Later it disorientated me; as if all my thoughts were hovering above me, out in the world for everyone to see, where nothing I did to try to snatch them back or quiet them worked.

 I used to wonder what the attraction was, why addicts chased that kind of high. After my first sneak peek I’m still baffled.

That morning had started out so normal, a day like any another. I slipped my favorite black pencil skirt up and over my hips, wearing it while I could still zipper it. Then I slid my feet into the purple pumps that I’d bought myself as a congratulations as much as a commission for enduring the bitch of a year I’d had.

We’d had.

I don’t mean to forget. He was there, through every shot and appointment, it was as much his victory, the day I bought those shoes, as it was mine, but somehow I only remember how I felt in the moment that stick turned pink.

I’d felt vindicated.  In fact I’d walked around that day feeling the way a gold medalist must, wanting to call special attention to the abilities of my uterus. So in a foolish moment, on a stroll through the mall,  I ignored  karma, and hoisted those pumps up to eye level,  declaring  them mine no matter the cost.

I should have known better, I should have remembered that everything comes with a price.  

Because 21 weeks later, those coveted heels clacking against the marble of the library steps, I felt the first pang of admonition and then the blood came.

Oh, so much blood. Flowing out of me, like all the tears I’d cried.

I remember the prick of the needle and then nothing, until I woke up to his teary eyes and those stupid shoes peeking out from under the chair he was crumpled in.

 

BlogPurplePumps

 

 

Over at Sinstral Scribblings, Master Class is in FULL SWING for the SPRING Semester.

Last week, one of my favorite writers, Rox of Unintentionally Brilliant got an A+ for her work and then picked a new line for our class. This is the  first line from I Wore the Ocean in the Shape of a Girl:

Morphine makes me weightless, airborne.

 

Then there is the Awesome community of Trifecta which gave us this word to ponder this week:
BITCH

3: something that is extremely difficult, objectionable, or unpleasant

Crimes of the Heart {Scriptic and Velvet Verbosity}

The crime was soundless.

After all, who would suspect him?

 His talent for blending into the background made it easy to plot this most glamorous caper.

Shunning accomplices and elaborate tactics, he chose to captivate his mark with ingratiating charm and flattery instead.

Soon enough, he found himself ushered past locked doors and into her inner sanctum, staring at his coveted prize.

The beating and tender heart he’d never intended to keep.

It had seemed a foolproof plan, until he held it in his hands and felt the first pang of love pierce his own chest as she walked away.

 

So this is my first time participating in Scriptic *yep I’m nervous*.

 

For the Scriptic prompt exchange this week, Eric Storch gave me this prompt: Elements of a heist.

I gave Chelle this prompt: A birthday cake, a forbidden love and this quote by Carrie Fisher : “instant gratification takes too long.”

Then I saw that Velvet from Velvet Verbosity had chosen the word: SOUNDLESS and it seemed to just click with what I wanted to say about “stealing a heart”.

100 Word Challenge writing prompt
 

Jacob at Five {Master Class}

Today I am five.

I know because I woke to my mommy’s voice singing “HAPPY BIRTHDAY dear  Jakey” in my ears. For the first time this week, I didn’t want to snuggle back under the covers. So I got out of bed and ran into Gio’s room to tell him it’s our birthday.

I’m a big boy now. Or at least that’s what my mommy and daddy and grandma keep telling me. They’ll see me and hug me so tight I can’t breathe and say “you’re getting to be such a big boy, Jacob!”

I’m actually still smaller than Gio. Gio is bigger, and maybe when I’m all growed up I’ll be big like Gio. He knows all his letters and numbers, mommy is always saying how “smart” Gio is and how “creative” I am.

I wonder what creative means.

Five doesn’t feel any different than four. I mean I was four on yesterday in the morning. Then today, I’m five. Will I be six tomorrow? Mommy says no, that I won’t be 6 until next year, which I guess is a long time.

I guess I like being five. I don’t use a nuk anymore and I am wearing boxer shorts like Gio now. I pee in the potty and I can dress myself, even if I do whine and make mommy do it almost every single morning. I can do it.

I’m still scared of Voldemort, Bellatrix, Mrs.Viola Swamp and going downstairs to the kitchen without anyone coming with me. Mom gets very pissed, (that’s HER word, not mine) when I tell her that I want a yogurt and she realizes that she needs to come down with me. She tells me “Jacob, you’re a big boy. There is nothing to be afraid of in the kitchen.” But she doesn’t know that there are all kinds of monsters and stuff that could scare me down there.

Did I tell you what my favorite things are right now? I, I, I want to. I have about thirty hundred things that I love. Gio loves CARS and his Leapster, he loves playing tic-tac-toe with Daddy but I only like that stuff.

I love dressing up like Santa Clause; I’m really the best Santa ever. Grandma told me . I was Harry Potter for Halloween. I had a wand and glasses just like Harry and nobody but me was dressed like him. I play the best Harry, and Scrooge. I dress up like Scrooge all the time, Mommy even bought me a new black hat so I could look just like him. I practice walking like him with my walking stick and then I sit, I sit and write like him at his desk. I know I make the best Scrooge too.

Do you know how I get good at being all of them? I practice my faces in the mirror. It drives mommy bonkers, she’ll say “Jacob can you look at ME when I’m talking to you?” but she doesn’t know that I’m watching my face in the mirror and seeing how I look when I say “Bah Humbug” or “Expelliamus!”. I gots to practice to make it better.  Right?

Well, I better go, mommy is yelling, (Seriously she yells a lot in the morning time) about being late and “being big boys means listening to mommy and daddy”.

I guess I’ll see you later, are you coming to Applebee’s for our party, or are you coming to our Chuggington party at Bounce U? You can come, I’ll ask Gio but I know he’ll say ok.

Bye!
Hey, I’m five today and so is Gio.

 

Blog2013BoysinLimeGreen

 

 

I apologize for being late with this.
Last Wednesday the wheels came off the bus with one phone call. Jacob’s temperature spiraled into Dr’s visits, a FLU determination, $257 for Tamiflu for my boys and then me being hit with it too.

But here I am, talking about 5, from Jacob’s point of view. Most of this is VERBATIM from my little guy.

Those times he keeps reminding you of Gio, yep, he does that does constantly.

Our MASTER CLASS line this week was from ROOM, picked by Marian.

“Today I am five.”