A day in the life of being me
Twenty-Four hours. In twenty-four hours a lot can change.
- You can think you’re going to Vegas in 48 hours and start packing your bags.
- You can nearly code an entire website that needs to launch before said Vegas trip.
- You can go to bed expecting to sleep all night.
- You can be woken up by a very sick boy, barking and choking on his own lung.
- You can sleep an entire 3 hours.
- You can wake up to walk for a child who was taken entirely too early from her family, and celebrate the lives of babies and mothers of others like her.
- You can get completely lost, back up in an intersection and watch your dear friend cringe for her own life and that of her son. While you laugh hysterically.
- You can meet a fellow Seattle Blogger and completely miss another Portland Blogger.
- You can be shocked by what you can do in a day.
- You can realize you are no longer going to Vegas, the trip you need both for work and mental health.
- You can cry about that fact.
- Three times.
- You can get really sort of pissed off about it but realize there’s nothing you can do as you watch your son teeter around in his diaper bark-coughing his runny nose all over the house and he hoarsely yells “DAINS! DAINS! CHOO CHOO!”
- You can realize what an asshole you are.
- You can stare at your daughter who has turned in to a teenager in a mere four years from birth.
- You can watch her be four again.
- You can write lists, more lists, todo lists, lists of things to pack, optional plans for getting away, lists of arrangements and phone numbers.
- And in the end, you can realize, all the lists in the world could be summed up with this one fact:
- You are thankful your family is here to bug the shit out of you, prevent you from traveling, keep you from getting that last item checked.
- Because today you walked for those who aren’t so lucky.
- So shut the fuck up already and let your daughter tell the story herself:
(In direct quotes) From our 4yr old Daughter Flinger: “Daddy, do you know what we did today? We let the balloons go because some babies don’t get to see their mommies anymore. There’s a little girl that doesn’t get to see her mommy and I gave my balloons to her. Do you know what her name is, Daddy?” Mr. Flinger- “What’s her name, Sweetie?” “Her name is Maddie.”
May, 03, 2009 Filed in: Family Life • Read the Archives
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Michelle M wrote on 05/03/2009
Had such a great time walking with you today! And you are right, all the whining in the world couldn’t take away from the true reason everyone was there today!
Aimee Greeblemonkey wrote on 05/03/2009
sniff sniff.
Christine wrote on 05/03/2009
Dammit Les. Getting all sorts of misty over here. I love you, bitch!!
MUAH!
pgoodness wrote on 05/04/2009
damn, you gave me chills and filled my eyes.
followthatdog wrote on 05/04/2009
I’m getting all weepy.
I’m glad we were able to meet face to face yesterday.
TexasRed wrote on 05/04/2009
Teary-eyed in West Texas.
Al_Pal wrote on 05/07/2009
*sniff* Totally crying. Trying to stop because my abdominals are in pain. Guh.
Amo wrote on 05/07/2009
Well said, Mrs. Flinger. Well said.
Little Miss Maddie has saved my boys from many a harsh word from me lately.
Scott wrote on 05/13/2009
“You are thankful your family is here to bug the shit out of you, prevent you from traveling, keep you from getting that last item checked.” Indeed.