Apparently I lost most of you on my last post.
You probably clicked away from my blog, scratching your head and thinking "huh?"
Treat=Poet(ry)? Doesn't really make sense.
Reaching, my friends. That is what we call reaching, or even: grasping.
Yesterday the Oldest Carrotstick
(who is not seeing eye to eye with me much this week)
accused me of not being "real" on my blog.
So here it is
The Real Truth of it All:
Are you ready?
Sometimes I feel like my soul is being sucked out of me.
It's probably lodged in the vacuum with all the dog hair and dust bunnies.
I don't know for sure.
On the flip side, at times, the Oldest Carrotstick thinks I'm the Dementor to her Harry Potter. (Remember Killer of Joy?)
And sometimes the Oldest Carrotstick thinks I'm mean.
And sometimes I have to remind myself that the Oldest Carrotstick's brain is slowly being rewired during these trying teen-age years.
And that, my friends, is the real 4-1-1.
She is a good, darling girl.
I LOVE her.
I still love being a mom.
But motherhood can have it's moments, all the same.
That's when it's good, very good, to read this talk by Elder Ballard from April General Conference.
We will survive.
(but thank goodness PB&J -- the Great White Hunter-- is back.)
Just trying to keep it real.
fish picture originally downloaded by imapix
wire picture originally downloaded by Janet Leadbeater