The First Day

Here is my first blog at blogger. I have had a couple years at 360 but I am having issues and it seems to be time for a change. C thinks that blogger might be the place for me to make the big leap out of yahoo... we will see. First why the visings?? Because that was the word I had to type out in order to get this account. Isn't that funny? What is a vising? I googled the word and came up with nothing. Remember when you were younger and certain words just had a ring to them? Or maybe you see your kids rolling a word off their tongue multiple times to see how the word tastes, or thinking about whether or not they like the feel of the word. That is what vising did to me. I just liked the feel of it. I liked the sound it made. So I am making a meaning for this word that I cannot find a meaning for, but should be a word because it sounds like one. Visings are the ramblings of a person who has something of interest to say. But I digress. Why am I here...

I will start with my first story. Marley dropped the ice cream cone that we brought home for her yesterday. Well it started when we went out to eat. We have learned a little trick for the kids. We are allowed to bring home an ice cream cone from the buffet that we frequent. So if we fill a cone with gummy bears and take it home to the kids, that is allowed. That is what we do when we leave. We each fill a cone with gummy bears, a big favorite in our house. I usually eat my cone and most of my bears before we reach the house, but H saves the other one for the kids, particularly Marley. So anyway she stepped on it right in front of us. We heard it crunch and looked down at her. H looked shocked... I don't know why, after all he lives with her too. He knows what she is all about: creative distruction and tornadic excitement. This girl lives like the wind, swooping down and destroying whatever she wants, only to sit peacefully and quietly a moment later as if nothing just happened. She loves life and cannot bring herself to live it with less than the full enthusiasm of a volcanic eruption. Anyway, so she crunched this ice cream cone with her bare foot, the little King Kong. H told her to pick it up. This, to her, was a challange of control. She said "no" in her little worried voice, that told me she wanted to pick it up to keep from the wrath that she knew would follow, but she couldn't bring herself to say "yes". He repeated the command adding that he was going to whoop her butt. Butt is my word, not his. I was nearby, typing my English assignment on the computer, watching the whole thing enfold. The poor little thing said "no" again in that same mousy voice. He did give her a smallest of taps on her little two year old butt. That was enough for her. I could see her eyes starting to well up. He repeated it again, this time adding "you little sh!t" Now, he was not angry. He was more ammused than anything, and it showed in his voice. The man just swears a lot, be it good or bad, it is what it is. But still that little thing couldn't take it. She buried her head in my lap. "I am NOT a sh!t, I am not." I consoled her and told her that H knows she is not a sh!t. She is not really a sh!t. I reminded her that if she didn't clean up the mess, she would sit in her room until I could get to cleaning it up so that I knew she wasn't making more messes for me to clean up. She agreed that the best thing to do would be to clean it up herself, so she didn't have to go wait in her room for my school work to be done. She cleaned it up. A couple points here to make, she has a mind of her own. This one will do what she wants no matter what. It is painful now, but it will be good later. Second, is my friend C who is teaching me, and I am a slow student no doubt, that there are better ways, and third that we will learn and grow from everything hopefully, even being bemusingly being called a sh!t. She really is a sh!t right now, but it is so much fun. Every time I get frustrated and overwhelmed with her shanagans, I try to remember that this will to pass. I will miss it, then.