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Good intentions don’t carve themselves

Somebody please disembowel me and give my life meaning

Somebody please disembowel me and give me new life

I always start out October with grand plans around Halloween. I set my sights on the first weekend of the month and make a mental note: We need hay bales! We need pumpkins! We need a blow-up mechanical Edward Scissorhands display! I decree that decorations must be out by sundown on that Sunday.

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Real life, no filter

Playing with oats while the dishes wait for someone to notice them

Playing with oats in our undies while the dishes continue to exist

For the longest time, Luke and I believed we were the only people in the world, or at least our circle of friends, who had Tazmanian devils for children. No matter how hard we tried, ad nauseum, incessantly, with Sisyphean effort, our house perpetually resisted order with the vehemence of a three-year-old resisting transition. It still does, as does the now five-year-old, still, with respect to transitions.

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