forgive while I rant....

I dont know if its my age or circumstances but memories seem to have become a huge part of my daily routine.

Some of it I understand, like pictures of my Dad making me cry. I am not sure The Princess noticed but I have a sneaking suspicion that Zig did notice. In the pile of pictures was one of my very pregnant belly. He insisted on taking it. The Princess knows its her in that fleshy protrubance. I clearly can recall pictures of my Mom about ready to bust at the seems too. We have continued this tradition and insisted both my sisters bare their bulging midriffs for all of etetnity on film too.

Some time ago my mother gave me a book. "To the best of my recollection" is a journal. Eash day has a question. I have ignored it for months. Today I started at January first and filled in several pages. Then it stuck me, an I flipped to todays date. I did yesterdays too. I smiled to myself, and I resisted the urge to cry.

The question today was.... "Do you remember having a favorite snack that you made at home?" Several. I was a very fortunate child despite my mothers struggle to middle classdom. My mom used to make this frozen fruit salad. I can remember requesting it often. She had one of those huge green Tupperware bowls that she made it in. With four girls int he house event that big bowl did not last long. I also remember rootbeer floats except we usually made them with Black Walnut or Butter Pecan ice cream. My favorite part was always the wayt he foam from the rootbeer froze to the icecream. That rootbeer ice is still the first part I look for even now.

I am desparately trying to balance. But I often feel like I have one foot on a ball and the other on oiled wet pavement. I still need to make plans for tomorrow, but my past keeps knocking on the big wooden door in my head. I have changed my position at work to help with time management issues in our house but the new job also creates some new stress. I need to be a wife but feel very inadequate filling those many nuances. I try to be a fun Mom but maintain discipline too. I just dont know where to file all the stuff in my in box.

I keep looking at my plate trying to decide what I want and what I need. I keep tossing the meat and potatoes spilling over the side back on top. My dessert tips precariously to the left. I cant adjust my greasy grip with the silverware and drink clutched in my other hand and the seating all seems 3 steps farther then I can manage.

Life is a buffet. I want to sample all the flavors and textures. I want to leave with a satisfied story to tell. I want to influences other appetites in a positive way.