That Time Mom Bought a Sloth

So here's the thing: I don't think anyone walks into a store with the intention of buying a pet sloth. Is it a LIVE pet sloth you ask? Well, of course not. I'm not crazy! (Wait, can you get a live one somewhere?)

But, sometimes things happen. And while it had been less than a week since Kurt told me we needed to cut back on our spending, there I was with this unfortunate dilemma. I really needed to buy a sloth. I couldn't explain it. Don't ask me why. It was definitely impulsive but once strapped into my car, I knew it was the right thing to do with that $20. (Some people might think it is questionable that I am being told to cut back on spending when clearly I make very good choices....hee hee.....apparently those people do not know me AT ALL!)

In my defense, I don't shop at Walmart if I can help it and when I do, I don't usually let my eyes wander to the big bargain bins of fun things. And I usually am not talking to my soccer team manager while doing those two things and wouldn't then mention the hilarity of the gigantic Llama stuffed animal that 'I am sure I need to get for my daughter Lily.....and oh look! A Smiling Sloth!' I blame my manager for telling me her daughter would love the sloth....because now I have one. In my car.

At any rate, here is Sloth strapped in.

Seriously. Something's very wrong with me. But look how happy he is!

So I picked up the girls from the bus stop that day.

"Mom, do we need to ask?" one of them said.

"No. Better if you don't. But, oh, you are giving a Sloth to your little sister, Leah, by the way." (They are in a mentorship program with my soccer teams and Leah is their little sis. It justifies everything.)

Anyway, they know me pretty well, so they snickered a bit, and I am pretty sure there may have been some eye rolling action going on, but they knew to leave it alone.

A little later, I went to the elementary school to pick up Solomon. He got into the car and there was this silent pause before he closed the door. Then I looked in my rearview mirror and saw him glaring at Sloth. The next thing I know, he is beating the snot out of Sloth with his book bag!

"Solly! Why are you beating up my pet Sloth?!" I intensely asked.

"Because.... HE STOLE MY SEAT!" Solly yelled back.


****

Later that night, a coaching friend texted me a bit upset because a basketball parent had become belligerent with him at his Futsal practice, called him arrogant, told him soccer did not belong on a basketball court, among other things.

"Want me to stick Sloth on him?" I texted back, hoping to lighten up the situation.

"No, the parent would probably just call him lazy," he said.

"Well," I replied, "Sloth's been sitting in the same damn seat ALL DAY! He IS lazy!"

I probably need to work on my empathy skills.

****

Meanwhile, Liam knew nothing about Sloth. He had been picked up and dropped off in my car several times during the day, but had been in and out of the front seat and never looked back. We were on the way to school and running a bit late the next morning when I came to a quick stop and commented, "Hopefully my pet Sloth doesn't fall out of his seat."

Liam looked at me confused as he struggled to get his seatbelt on.

"Are you calling me a Sloth?" he questioned.

"Um, no. I am referring to my pet Sloth," I said, pointing to the back seat.

Liam turned around and immediately started belly laughing like I have never heard from him. He was so tickled he could hardly contain it.

Solly, quietly sitting next to Sloth, was not amused.

"It really isn't that funny," Solly scolded Liam.

"Yes, it really is!" Liam snorted.

"No, he is REALLY ANNOYING!" Solomon exclaimed. "Why do we even have to have him IN THE CAR?!"

"Well," I said calmly. "I could hide him in your bed as a little surprise if you'd rather."

"Well then I will just put him outside your bedroom door before you wake up and see how YOU like it!" Solly exclaimed.

"You are right. That would probably startle me....Sloth would definitely make me jump first thing in the morning," I admitted.

Solly got really quiet....and then, out of nowhere, starts laughing and laughing and laughing....

"Mom, why can't you take me to school first? I might be late now!" Solly asked once he got a hold of himself.

"Just tell your teacher Sloth made you late," I told him.

"But I blame you!" he said.

"That may be more true, but it is WAY more interesting if you tell her it was your pet sloth!"

"Still annoying," he said before getting out of the car, a half smile still planted on his face.

"Have a great day, Solly!" I yelled back.

It's about making memories y'all!

I heard a quote recently that resonated with me. It went something like this:
"Now I know, my life will not make me happy but happiness will make my life."

And that is why I bought the happiest Sloth ever.....

(Totally. Worth. Every. Penny! hee hee hee)

The Sunrise

Sloth watching the sunrise

Sloth meeting the cat

Totally. Worth. It.

Happy Mother's Day

I was asked to write again. And as such, experienced this dichotomy between feeling appreciated or wanted and at the same time a little guilty and sad. Maybe that is part of this crazy balancing act we all go through when we have to let some things fall through the crack and realize the one thing that was keeping it all together was the one thing that we had to let go!

Anyway, it has been a while and too much jumbled chaos has filled all the moments of my life and left no time for the quiet reflection that cleanses a soul and helps tell a story. So I cannot put it all to paper, er, screen. I don't know if it is just the having five kids thing or the time I have dedicated to coaching or taking care of chickens or the seven kittens or the nine bunnies (and that is nine only because we gave five away) or the fact that one of those kittens came home one day pregnant because I just hadn't gotten them all fixed yet.....because I hadn't worked out the time (it's ok to judge, but don't be surprised if a "live animal" package shows up for you at the post office)....or because one of our kids was feeling neglected and needed more from me and it seems that someone always needs more and more and more, and then the babysitter quit and .....  before I spiral here I am going to take a moment to tell some stories. Hopefully humor is actually what we all need a little more of but sometimes I wonder if I am grossly mistaken. (When I finish laughing at this whole universe, I will let you know.)

As it turns out, there is another parenting thing they don't tell you about in the pregnancy book that is equally important to all that "What to Expect When You are Expecting" stuff. (And that book by the way, is essentially a fairy tale with a cute little ball of baby in the happily ever after.....the hard stuff comes AFTER that baby gets home....the pregnancy was the EASY part. Thanks for that little exclusion, Book!) Anyway, here's the thing: One day, if you are so lucky, you get the opportunity to teach your teenager how to drive, or at least, how not to drive like you do because there is no way it will pass the driving test!

So, by the grace of God, Aidan turned 16 in February, and has since been chaufferring me around (it's about time) and what they don't tell you is that you don't realize how important that breathing stuff really is until you sit on the passenger side of the car the first time your teenage driver gets behind the wheel. (Who knew that Lamaze stuff would come back around!)

Seriously though, for the last few months, (and by few I mean like half a year) Aidan has fallen behind in his school work and has subsequently not been taking his voice lessons each week. Never fear though, I like to be challenged so the first time he asked to cancel, I showed up and became the "substitute" vocal student. I figured, hey, teachers do it, why can't the student? So on most weeks, I show up to his voice lessons to learn how to control my breath, project, open my soft palate and transition through the vocal ranges flawlessly (which I'm sure comes with practice, at least that is what she tells me) but the biggest benefit has been the deep belly breathing that we sometimes do to relax me on those few occasions I tamper with my human side and come in stressed. It was as if the universe just knew I would need this technique because in that first moment with Aidan behind the wheel, I think I stopped breathing for oh, five hours of that 20 minute car ride before I realized I needed to put those lessons to good use.

Deep breath in, relaxing the chest, filling the belly, and out....instant relaxation....well, instant once we were safely home....and after I reminded him that he needed to turn the car off BEFORE exiting the car. Details.

Since that day, I remember my belly breathing (and try to stop clenching all the muscles in my body or grinding my teeth down...and keep my choicer words to myself, among other things) and he has only forgotten to turn the car off two other occasions, so we're making progress.

And I guess, on this Mother's Day, that is all one can really ask for, progress.

So, to all you moms, Happy Mother's Day! May it be one big belly breath after another, rinse and repeat, and perhaps a little progress thrown in for good measure.

Mary

Some people come into your life and reshape how you think, how you see the world and your experience of even the ordinary moments.  They just "get" you from the inside out, as if your souls have known each other for eternity. They understand your humor, laugh with your self-perceived wit, don't take you any more seriously than you take yourself and yet make you feel like they couldn't be any more serious about you. They are the kindred spirits, the fast friends, the ones who don't miss a beat, no matter how near or far.

For me, Mary DePersia was this and so much more. She was my chosen family. My west coast mom. Forgive the cliche, but she was a soul sister through and through. 

While it seems like I have always known her, I met Mary the day I brought my first born home from the hospital. Tired and worn, I took him straight to the front office of our townhouse community to introduce him to the two women who worked there. You see, I was already pregnant when we moved to San Diego, and knowing I would be staying home with our children, I did not take a new job there which left me plenty of time to meander. So each day, I would walk to the sales office, work out at the gym and then stop in to pass the time over coffee, cookies and conversation with the two women who worked there. (Sometimes they would interrupt our girl time to do their jobs.) On that fateful February day, Mary happened to be in the office doing the same. (Minus the working out!) We were introduced, she 'ooed' and 'ahhed' over my newborn and pretty soon, Aidan and I just met her at her townhouse instead to do life together. 

Mary quickly became a bestie, like a sister to me and a grandma to my child. She was so tightly woven into the fabric of our life and I spent so much time over there that I am surprised her husband Chris doesn't have a neck issue as he continually shook his head at us, laughing like school girls, gabbing on as we would, solving the world's problems (or at least making fun of them) over cheese and crackers. 

One of our favorite shared stories had to do with a trip to Costco. A constant companion, she would tag along whenever I went shopping to help me with Aidan. On one of these trips, Mary had offered to push the cart since I was big and pregnant again and Aidan, well, was Aidan. A little more sure on his feet now and wanting nothing to do with sitting inside the cart, he was given permission (i.e. he was already doing it anyway) to stand on the outside of the cart, holding onto the side, feet on the bottom rack. So there we were, walking along when I look over to see Mary pushing the cart while browsing the aisles and Aidan at the bottom, holding on for dear life as his body dragged along the ground, feet flying wildly behind, a big smile on his face. I started laughing and Mary looked down to see what she had missed, then looked back and ever so nonchalantly said something along the lines of: "Wow, I didn't know he could already cart surf! He is a real natural!"

She asked about her "cart surfer" during our last conversation, still getting a good laugh from that 15 year old memory. That was a week ago. No time at all it seems, yet between the then and now, life stood still a moment as one of its finest left us. 

The day Mary died was an unusual day. My normal energy was sapped. I had a hard time waking up that morning and after the first wave of kids left for school, I found myself crawling back in bed with such a heaviness I thought I must be coming down with something. I told Kurt that I thought I might need to go get checked for Lyme Disease, everything ached and the exhaustion was intense. No amount of caffeine could snap me out of it; something just felt very wrong. A few hours later, Chris told me the news of her passing and as sorrow filled my heart, the heaviness made sense. We had a weird connection, birthdays a week apart, both of us Geminis to the core (or so we laughed about anyway). I thought it oddly coincidental that the day she went in sick years ago to the hospital with pneumonia, I was fighting off a horrible cough, the worst I had had in years. Chris had called me to tell me the terrible news that she was so ill and they had found cancer in her lungs and were not sure she would make it out. Devastated, I wanted to fly out but my cough was so bad I knew they wouldn't let me near her. But Mary fought back. And granted us more time. 

But, there was no warning call this time. Just the news of her passing. The flood of memories and emotions, the regrets and remorse; all so crippling. Only a few days before, we had spoken on the phone. The sorrow she feels at the holidays since the loss of her only son was more evident this year; her breathing a little more labored, but all in all, she was doing ok she said. I had sent her the yearly picture calendar we make for her at Christmas, a little late as usual but earlier than my norm. And my first flustered thought was, oh no, did the pictures even make it to her? Did she know I thought about her....that I loved her? And then the guilt overwhelmed me. I had always felt like her chosen daughter and yet, she had tried to call me just days before and I couldn't take the call as I was with company. I had made a mental note to call her back the next day, even told her incredible story to my sister-in-law, how Mary was a medical miracle, how she had fought off lung cancer, and how doctors were shocked with her survival given how bad it was, how she had had some melanomas removed recently and had been scheduled for another scan. But my life, too full at times to even think straight, had distracted me from returning the call. My stomach twisted into a knot as I rapidly checked my voice mailbox, hoping to hear her on the other end. She hadn't left a message. I crumbled.  

The thing about grief is that it all becomes kind of a big blur. There are so many tears shed, so much heartache, so many unanswered questions and unknowns. There were mournful hours mixed with moments of clarity and calm; tears shed for not only Mary and for Chris, their lost son, her brother, but then also again for my cousin, whose son's death is still so fresh in our hearts. It is all so raw. And everywhere I look, there is a reminder. The 'first year' frames she gave me for each of my children, the "Friendship is like a Sheltering Tree" plaque, the chicken wall decor, the Norman Rockwell Santas, even my daughter who was given Mary's middle name... and on and on. Mary is everywhere.  

I slept fitfully that first night, waking once in the bleak hours of morning, after a chilling dream, only to open my eyes and feel water rush out as if I had continued crying in my sleep. I have heard it said that sometimes when someone you love dies, and you wake up that first morning without them, for a brief moment, you forget and feel like your old self. But then, in a blink, reality hits like a sucker punch, taking your breath away as you recognize that it wasn't all a terrible dream and it pierces you all over again as if cutting open the wound for the first time. And that is when you know that your old life, the one with your loved one still in it, is never coming back. And that smothering moment is the beginning of a new normal, one that starts with a crawl through pain and heartbreak and leads you through unpredictable waves of sorrow that threaten to wash you away.  

Needless to say, the day was rough. I had traveling decisions to make and to be honest, I am not great at making travel decisions under the best of circumstances, much less in this one. Chris generously texted with me throughout the day, letting me know his sister and niece were flying in to help and he would keep me posted on the decisions made. With the false comfort of knowing he was not alone, I found myself keeping busy with the tasks I had been putting off a while like addressing Christmas (now New Years) cards and deleting my backlog of emails, all the while, wishing I had been given more time with her, that I had given more time to her. I just childishly thought there would be another day. Another year. Another conversation. Another lifetime together. 

Obsessive questions kept drifting through my thoughts: why didn't she leave a message, what was she calling to say, why didn't I call her back? I kept lifting them to God, praying he would settle my mind. That's when I ran into an unread email sent to me just days before. It was an e-card from Mary. Always thoughtful, she had sent me a beautiful JacquieLawson animated e-card, her favorite kind: a delightedly peaceful winter scene unfolded, snow gently falling, (like it had all day the day she passed and continued in that moment as I read), sweet little black-capped chickadees flying about, deer grazing, bunnies curiously watching and a cozy, little house to come home to with kids skating outside on a frozen pond; a cold, winter scene that warmed the soul and at the end was this message:

"Thank you! 

I tried to reach you by phone.....no luck and did you know your mailbox is full so I couldn't leave a message. Anyway (enough of my whining) I want to thank you for my calendar, I enjoy them so much....I love seeing how the kids have grown and am sad to see how the kids have grown...hoping that makes sense. Happy New Year to you, Kurt and the kids. Love you and we'll talk soon. I have some "biblical" questions!"

And just like that, she gave one last gift. Answers, much deserved sarcasm, peace and just like Mary, a little cliff hanger to ponder. 

Rest well, Mary Elizabeth (Betty) Depersia. Thank you for being you, for sharing your heart and life with us. May the only One truly capable of answering all your questions give you everlasting peace and comfort. (And sorry about the voicemail. I'm working on it!) Talk soon. 

I love you. 

Updates from the Farm

It has been almost five months since I last sat down to write. Someone asked me about the blog a few weeks back and I had to pause for just one wild moment as stories and images flickered through my memory. It feels like a lifetime has passed.

So here are the significant events from the last handful of months:

Lily almost went into anaphylactic shock after consuming a Macadamia nut the day after school let out. Our summer was spent reading the backs of food labels, making certain there were no traces of tree nuts because while she is only potentially allergic to a few of them, the one would almost certainly kill her if she did not administer her medicine after an exposure. I was reprimanded by the allergist about this and he did not seem amused when I explained that the gas station apparently doesn't sell epinephrine. We are getting along dandily.

We inherited 7 kittens....and the best part about it is that no one really thought much about me owning several dozen chickens but when told we have 7 kittens in our attic now, they look at me like I have lost my mind. So, here's a little hint guys: it's not the kittens that put me over the edge! But truly, they are the cutest things. Now a bit more adolescent-like, they each mimic the personality of the owner who claimed them. Liam's cat, for instance, is the friendliest of them all, preferring companionship over things like eating....he has the biggest, happiest purr. Solomon's cat, on the other hand, refuses to follow social norms, has pulled off and hid two collars now and is at once, loving and cuddly and alpha and stubborn. Hmmm. 

While Kurt toured Italy with Aidan for a few weeks, the rest of the kids and I took a trip down to Florida. We all had a blast, it was great to be home and for the first time in a long time, I left with the  urge to just stay a while longer....and by longer I mean I spent a week looking at houses on Zillow, just to see what would be in our price range, you know, just in case. It would be hard to give up my make believe farm-life, but I am pretty sure I would get over it. (Or perhaps hide a few chickens out back.....with the kittens.....)

When we got back to PA, Marco came to stay with us. (He is the 13 year old Italian cousin Kurt brought home.....never question your spouse's souvenir choices....unless you have to feed them and keep them alive....) A month with Marco deserves it's own post but for now let's just say, there was never a dull moment.....and while we loved having him, I might have been okay with just one or two dull moments!!

Soccer started back up and then school and then Solomon got suspended because of a pocket knife (again, he probably deserves his own post....shoot, he probably needs his own blog!) and then Halloween came and went and now it is truly smack dab in the middle of fall and everything I am juggling seems suspended in time and space, ready to either fill us up or overwhelm us into submission. I guess we will have to wait and see. But, I hope your home is enjoying this season, though fleeting and indecisive in nature. I am grateful we have it to share, if only for a little while.

Most Enthusiastic Baseball Player Ever to Walk the Earth

Steele: I want Rudy to dress in my place Coach. He deserves it. 
Dan Devine: [Laughs] Don't be ridiculous, Georgia Tech is one of the top offense teams in the country. You are an All-American and our Captain, act like it!
Steel: I believe I am. [Lays down his jersey on Devine's desk and walks out]

****

Players and Fans: Ru-dy, Ru-dy, Ru-dy!
(Insert viewer's heart ripping from their chest and, oh, the tears.)


****

If you know the movie, you know the scene. You know how those collegiate athletes, one by one, walked into the office of their Notre Dame coach and laid their jerseys down, asking him to let Rudy take their place in the last game of the season. You know how, eventually, the coach confirms Rudy's spot to dress for the game and run out on the field. You know the swell of emotion and uncontrollable tears of joy that the movie elicits from there until the end.....

We watch the movie Rudy a lot. Well, at least we did before it went missing. And we remind our kids of the determination that Rudy possessed, the belief in his ability to accomplish his dream and meet that goal of running onto the field for a game that he never gave up on.

In our family, Liam is our Rudy. Substitute little league baseball for college football and far less athleticism and size and you have our little Liam. He is the most enthusiastic baseball player that ever walked the earth. Grinning from ear to ear as he plays, he cheers (often for himself!), he gets passionately mad (sometimes) when he strikes out and he evokes joy and happiness from not only our team's parents but from the parents of every team we play. He is the only kid that the team shouts for when headed up to bat.

"Li-am, Li-am, Li-am!"

The kids genuinely want to see him succeed and urge him forward, even when he goes a full season without ever hitting a ball. He loves the game and when he is at home, his glove is on, ball in hand, as he pretends to play in our living room, commentating in a hushed whisper the play by play in his imagination. And while he will likely never be an All-Star, he doesn't let his developmental delays and Autism get in the way of playing his favorite game on earth with the hopes of playing forever.

So, it is understandable that while I watched the last few minutes of baseball camp yesterday, the part where they gave out awards, that I would feel an immense pang of sadness and heart break. The truth is, Liam has made huge strides. He has gone from not being able to even throw a ball, much less catch one, to actually making plays ever so often; fielding the ball and even throwing kids out. He has gone from being scared of even standing in the batters box, to actually batting with a fair amount of ease, sometimes even getting on base. And ever so often, he scores a run. And it makes his entire week.

As I stood there though, listening as they called up the the fourth place and third place and second place and first place winners for each age group, I felt such pain in my heart. Liam would likely never be one of those kids. If only the world gave awards for enthusiasm and joy.

But as the ceremony was coming to an end, the high school baseball coach leading the camp, paused and then very deliberately spoke about a player who had been knocked out at the very beginning of the competition but who had been unfazed, cheering every one else on, enthusiastically encouraging each player, applauding and boosting up every one of his teammates as if he, himself, were the one about to win. And for this, the Camper of the Week award goes to Liam Wolf.

The kids went wild! They screamed and cheered loudest of all for the smallest among them. And then chanted:

"LI-AM! LI-AM! LI-AM!"

(Insert mom's heart ripping from her chest and oh, the tears....)

He might not make it to the World Series, but he has certainly stolen this crowd. And while the world doesn't often reward enthusiasm, his enthusiasm will undoubtably reward the world.

Hot Cross Buns

Hot cross buns!
Hot cross buns!
One a penny, two a penny,
Hot cross buns! 


Hot cross buns!
Hot cross buns!
If you have no daughters,
Give them to your sons!


I got a voicemail yesterday:

"Mrs. Wolf, this is the principal from the Primary Center. I had Solomon in my office just now and apparently in lunch he was throwing food at kids in the cafeteria and uh, in Music they are singing the song, um, Hot Cross Buns so at lunch he was standing up, singing that song and smacking his bottom while he, ha ha, was doing it and then pretending to shoot the kids with his finger....."

Imagine getting that voicemail, one in which, not even the principal can get through without cracking up, and then trying to reprimand the camouflage laden seven year old sitting in your car as you wait for the bus to arrive:

"Solomon, you cannot stand up on the table in lunch and smack your bottom while singing Hot Cross Buns....it isn't acceptable behavior." (Said no one with a straight face ever!)

Solomon did his darndest to keep a serious tone as he replied, "Ok, I know, Mom" and then burst out laughing as he almost choked on his words, "BUT IT WAS SUPER FUNNY!"

And I am sure it was. But, as I explained to him after his genuine, uncontrollable and entirely too infectious belly laugh subsided, just because something is funny does not make it right. As Steve Martin so wisely put it in the movie Cheaper by the Dozen, some things are "Funny, but WRONG!"

Parenting this one might very well be a long and laborious journey. And as my bestie down the street so lovingly pointed out, perhaps I need to mentally prep myself for his future endeavors because if the military thing doesn't work out, he might become an aspiring Chippendale performer....

Hey, at least he has options, right?

Life Without Focus

"Hey Mom," Lily said, on a car ride home from soccer one day. "Can I get a blow torch?"

Snapping out of my daydreaming, "Wait, what? Uh, no.....no you most definitely cannot."

"Oh darn," she said, as if she half expected me to say yes.

😳

From the title, you might think I am going to go into a rant about living a life without purpose or meaning; perhaps complaining about the black hole that is being a stay at home wife and mother (and for the record, whoever named it "stay at home" mom/parent, never had kids....at least not 5 of them because there are many days I WISH I could just stay at home!)

But no, today is literally about focus, or the lack there of; about how I turn my phone on to look at my calendar to see what the day holds, get distracted by the idea that maybe if I had a better organizational system things would run more smoothly, so I go into the app store to see what kinds of apps they have for that and I miss waking the kids up on time (or did I wake them and they didn't actually get out of bed? That must be it.) So, at least one kid is late to school but the others hurry to get ready and actually walk to the bus stop as if they do it all the time (first time this year?) and then I blink twice and it's 2:00 and time to pick up kids and start round two and whoa! What happened to the day?

I can waste time like I get paid for it. Come to think of it, I wish there was a job for that: Professional Incessant Time Annilater (my husband would call it a PITA for short 😂) because not only could I work from home, no training necessary, but I would surely make a GAZILLION dollars (assuming there is commission on just how much doesn't get finished) and be the employee of the year! I told my friend the other day that no matter how many houses we have lived in, they have all been starter homes. Every house is a starter home for us because there are always five thousand projects started, but never finished. (That's an approximation of course, could be more....) What can I say? I'm a starter, an ideas person.....not always a follow-througher.....

My world is a buzz of business without accomplishment. There are continuous cycles of dishes, and laundry, and pets and overwhelming stacks of papers. (My family alone has taken out at least one full rainforest.) And then there is the wandering mind that goes from each thing, like a bee flitting around flowers, consuming time, space, life. Sometimes, on a good day, I might make time to breathe. Sometimes.

And sometimes it is overwhelming (unless you are my spouse, then it is ALWAYS overwhelming). Sometimes I liken it to the life of a flea, making huge leaps from one random animal (project) to the next, looking for a choice place to settle down, lay down some roots, really dig in, but eventually, hopping dramatically on to the next thing that catches my fancy.

Hey look! New chore....new project.....new entire life path idea! Let's go try THAT thing instead!

Squirrel!

Some of you are reading this and shaking your head (possibly in scorn and judgement). You don't understand how someone can choose to live like that, disorganized, scattered, flying a million miles per hour without a particular destination in mind. (Pat yourself on the back. You are probably a really good adult. Maybe you even have a fantastic career, well behaved and responsible kids, and are on top of everything your life touches. Success is your middle name. Well done, Super Adult.)

But some of you get it, possibly too well. Some of you recognize the plight as similar to your own. Some of you see it as the cross you carry....others maybe even find a little peace in the absurd chaos. There is comfort knowing life is a flurry of activity and whether you control it all or not, the end is the same for all of us. (Judge THAT Super Adult!.....But go ahead and feel good about yourself that you didn't just research therapeutic rabbit wheelchairs for the last hour....)

Maybe Lily is on to something.....a blowtorch might make some things a lot easier.

Here's hoping you have a wildly productive day.....or perhaps a wild day that adds just a little bit of unADULTerated joy.