Friday Fragments

It was our last day of vacation. We were walking through Booth Bay Harbor, and somehow Jack and I had straggled behind. We were ambling along a quiet, deserted street, chatting about the end of our trip, and he reached for my hand. My almost 12 year old was actually holding my hand in public. So sweet. You know, he's at that age... I can barely address him in public, and his little brother and sister are positively mortifying. He wants to hang with his friends, not us. Yet he still won't go to bed until I tuck him in and kiss his forehead. In the privacy of our home, he'll still come up to me and hug me and say I love you mommy. But this public acknowledgment of feeling the mommy luv was sure something. Then we rounded a corner and came upon shops and traffic and people. Dropped my hand like a hot potato. But somehow I was able to appreciate that gesture as much as I did the gesture of him tentatively taking my hand. My tween Jack.

What is it about summer that makes it even harder than usual for me to don a bra?? Sweat?? Heat?? This morning I went through 5 different tops, trying to find one that would be OK sans brassiere. No such luck. I just want to wear a tank top or a t-shirt to stay cool and comfy, but even the kids groan in mock disgust and cover their eyes mom put a bra on!! I spent something like 80 out of 86 months either pregnant or breast feeding. And the boobies are certainly the worse for wear. And I have NEVER found a comfortable bra. They do not exist. Panties can be comfy, shoes can be comfy, even pelvic exams can be just fine. But bras? Uggh. Hate em.

Jack's having a not so good summer. His best bud is off visiting his dad. His other best bud moved to Texas. He says he's more than depressed, but not yet suicidal. Morose is the word he used. It breaks my heart. Yesterday he said mom, our family is really screwed up. That breaks my heart even more. I happen to think we're all doing remarkably well, all things considered. But that's my grown-up perspective. Of course it seems screwed up to him. He remembers really good times. Intact times. Times that felt stable and safe. Never fear ladies, we ARE safe. But we haven't had that feeling of being part of an awesome family for quite a while now. And I guess none of us are really sure we're gonna get that feeling back.

I don't watch tv, except for Lost and Grey's Anatomy.  I have a secret desire to be a hot chick stranded on a beautiful tropical island with a bunch of hot guys and other hot chicks. I also love the idea of being a key player in a weird time warpy we're all connected and we have to save ourselves and the planet plot. yeah, i'll admit that i may have an overblown sense of worldly purpose and responsibility. Grey's Anatomy is on my short list only for the hot cast. Stories are relatively lame, but the acting's good. In a network tv prime time kinda way. Well, it's summer, and I can't even catch reruns. But there is Netflix. Got Season 4 of Weeds. Mary Louise Parker. Love her. Hot. Funny. Really funny. Still can't believe they can actually put that stuff on tv. Guess I'm glad they do.

Friday fragments courtesy of Mrs. 4444. Go check her out, she's awesome.

Have a great weekend!