I just finished up a week with my family and two days back at work.
I am exhuasted.
My mom tried to make Steve and I feel at home by putting us in a bed we can share.
This is difficult in a house that doesn't have mattresses larger than full sized.
So she and my little brother shoved two twin beds together.
The mattresses are older than I am.
Now I need to go to the chiropractor.
But it was thoughtful of her all the same.
I was jealous that my sister got an air mattress until she woke up on the hard basement floor with no air left in it.
The grass isn't always greener on the other side, just usually.
* * *
Having siblings teaches you to compare yourself to everyone else.
And Christmas presents are no different.
I now see why most parents are very careful to spend the same amount on each of their children; because if they don't, the kids notice.
It seems very stressful to be a parent.
You're always trying to make your kids happy or at least keep them from hating you.
How do you do it? It's realizations like this that scare me off the idea.
That and even more stretch marks and not sleeping through the night and toys that make noise and premature piercings and deadbeat boyfriends and...
But there must be some good in it, too.
An overanalyzer can't even tell what color the grass is anymore.
I'm talking about myself, of course.
My mind is so unraveled that I forgot how I wanted to end this.
That is unusual for me because all the time when I am writing I am thinking how I can sum it all up and tie a nice bow around it on the last sentence; how I can accentuate what I was trying to say. But honestly, I don't know what I want to say today. I just know I want to say something because I am having blogging withdrawls. Sorry I couldn't tie a nice bow on my thoughts today. Just imagine this blog is like the last present under the tree where there was a bow on it at one time but now it's in a gift bag stuck to some tissue paper because of all the jostling. Yeah, I like that.