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Wednesday, July 02, 2014


After Thistle helped me clean and organize her room (she is pretty good at it, for a four and a half year old), I put her to bed and then turned to the mess in the living room/playroom.  She has a wooden dollhouse  and I discovered a giant mush of green playdough in the upstairs "bedroom", like the Blob.  I scraped that out.  After spending an hour putting away Fisther Price people, rearranging the Care Bear village, putting away chalk, paints, colored pencils, stacking paper, straightening her bookshelf, putting the dress-up clothes away, etc etc...

I realize I have been cleaning up after kids for 30+ years, (actually more, since I took on the care of my youngest brother from age 13 to 18 because my mother was too dysfunctional to care for him).

Good Lord!  Have I really been doing this?  Really?

I felt better about myself today after realizing this consciously--I think my two best accomplishments were that I went back to grad school and got an MFA, and became a university lecturer, which allowed me to get off welfare (I'm still broke and on partial disability, but at least I never have to endure that process again). I also have seen my work become widely published, and that is good.  I don't know if I will have a real book published in my lifetime, but hopefully my life is going to be longer than I first thought in November.

I have decided, by the way, to get the steroid injections into my lower spine, which should help with pain, and also physical therapy, and get on top of any further physical stuff before I get really sick.

And that, for tonight, is all, dear readers.