history repeats itself
Mood:  hungry
Topic: adulthood
the heat of summer has taken it's time getting here, which i'm not complaining about... nonono... by no means am i rushing the smothering heat of houston summers... but all the same it feels odd.

kristin's birthday was the 20th... i knew it was coming, but i couldn't remember what day it was for the life of me. i will warn you now, i am horrible at forgetting things like that... really important things...so if you want me to remember your birthday/anniversary/some other random important day... BE OBNOXIOUS about it... because i swear that's the only way you'll get a call from me on that day, or a present or a card or ANYTHING...

beau scratched my super sensitive scar on my arm... the skin is still so soft and fresh, his razor-blade fingernails cut through it like butter... ouch... i am struggling lately with the feeling that all beau does is wreck and destroy things... i clean for an hour and it takes him five minutes to push everything over and pull everything out... it's a bit overwhelming at times... and always pulling on me, wrapping his tiny arms around my legs and jumping up with the expectant and understood message of "hold me mama"... and when i say no... no i won't hold you, not now, i am bone-tired or too busy, i see my own childhood, and my own lonely, tired mother... raising children is a form of penance which presses out true forgiveness--the complete understanding and sharing of minds. i will never be whole from the gaping emptiness that was my childhood companion, but i can at least understand it's roots, and hope that my own promises to my child hold strong