My Little Runaway

I’ve been in my new house for almost a year. I like it. It’s functional, it’s big enough for a bunch of noisy kids whose mom needs a break from them when the occasion calls for it, and the neighborhood is blissfully quiet for the most part.

So, tonight, I had to attend a meeting in between having a part time kid with me who had a bit of an attitude which required a couple calls to her mom. The meeting was about forming a neighborhood watch on my street and the one abutting mine. Six people showed up, representing five households in a 70 household area. In the driving rain.

Today, I got a comment from a reader who observed that I seem to have some pretty full days and how did I manage to find time to blog in there somewhere too? Well, some days, it’s tough. I’ve got a sick kid with a science project looming, a kid who is now in tutoring—because Lord knows we wouldn’t want any child left behind (don’t get me started) and a kid who is mad at the world. I’m chalking that last one up to normal development and not some new sociopathic tendency. My job sucks the life out of me most days, I’m stretching my budget every way but loose to make ends meet, and my dogs won’t stop talking.

I want to run away.

But, that’s not an option.

What I see coming is taking on yet another responsibility I don’t have time for because it’s important.

Then, I look at this and remember why I do it.