The People Who Choose To Love Me

The People Who Choose To Love Me
This is my family. Watermark and all.

Monday, November 23, 2015

It's So Quiet I Can Hear My Coffee Burning My Thigh

Every morning I stumble out of bed, walk blindly to the coffee pot, and pour a ridiculous amount of coffee that I try to drink out of my mug like it's a shot of Fireball. And, every morning, I spill coffee all over my shirt, the floors, and if I'm sitting, my legs. It's a painful reminder that mornings are the anti-Christ and I should just go back to bed.

All four of my kids are gone for one whole week. We let one grandma kidnap the boy and the girls went to visit their dad and grandma. My house is so quiet. I can't even concentrate because I don't have four tiny people screaming at me while I try to concentrate. I've gotten accustomed to the incessant interruptions and now I have to figure out how people without kids operate and do things without having to stop to wipe up poop or make cereal every fifteen seconds. I can't concentrate on anything except the lack of interruptions and listening to every small sound that would otherwise be drowned out by kids fighting or whining. I will accept that my personal brand of writing includes list writing and write a list of every audible sound around me.


1. SHIT!!! The arrival of the trash truck. I think I missed it.

2. The ice maker having a seizure.

3. A robin in the front yard.

4. The neighbor's yappy dog CoCo running in a circle like it's missing it's left hind leg in my front yard. I find it funny they named this dog CoCo because I always feel like grinding him up into a fine, brown powder.

5. Dust falling into place on the bookshelf.

6. My own thoughts. Is that my voice???

Anyway, you get the picture, It's really super quiet... I guess I can finally read all of those books that I have set aside to read but never have the time to actually get through a chapter. I'm going to start in on Jaxon M. King's novel Into Jackson: Everything In Between today. It's gotten really good reviews and if I can focus on anything other than the sound of my hair growing later, I hope to find another amazing read. If you want to check it out before I get a chance to review it here on the blog, here's the link to buy it on Amazon.

My husband works with the author and says he's a really great guy and I probably should have waited to meet him in person before linking up on Twitter with him because now he probably thinks I'm even more crazy than I really am. I swear I don't talk about harming animals or sexual perversions as much as my Twitter account would have you think otherwise. Well, I did threaten to turn CoCo into cocoa this morning, BUT HE IS SCARY AND HE BITES MY ANKLES REALLY HARD (in my defense)!! Anyway, I'm sure Jaxon would appreciate any feedback on his new book if you'd like to give it. He is a freelance author, just starting out, and I think I'd like to pick his brain sometime about his process of publication so I know what I'm in for once all of the dust settles and my hair stops growing, or maybe just when my kids get back home so I can write in my normal dysfunctional setting.


  1. You know how I learned to deal with scalding hot coffee? I drink it cold. I keep a container in the refrigerator. I pour that into a glass or travel mug with some milk. Then when the morning coffee is done brewing I pour that into the container and stick it in the refrigerator.
    Victor Hugo--you know, the Les Miserables and Hunchback of Notre Dame dude--did this too, except he didn't have a refrigerator. Anyway if it's good enough for him it's good enough for me, although it might be too many steps for you once the kids get back.

    Now I think I know a library that needs to add Into Jackson: Everything In Between to its collection.

    1. Yeah, but it's so cold outside and hot coffee without cream burns bacteria out of your throat and I have four kids with lots of bacteria. You can't fight science, Chris.

      And, I'm pretty sure that would make Jaxon's Day!!! :D

  2. I would say use a sippy cup for your coffee, but those holes are so goddamned tiny it's impossible to drink the coffee fast enough. Errr ... so I hear.

  3. If I had that much quiet, I'm sure I'd be humbled by the amount of dust I'd hear falling on my shelves. As for Twitter, I'm not sure I follow you but if you tweet about sexual perversions, I feel we might be kindred spirits.