Party of Five

I've been called cold and heartless.  I call MYSELF cold and heartless.  I received this notation on my persona when it was discovered that I don't turn into a blubbering fool at movies like "Old Yeller".  Who doesn't cry over the death of dog!  I don't.  I never cry in public, or at least that anyone will see.  I suppose this makes people think I'm cold and heartless. I asked Mr. D. last night if I was heartless.  The conversation streamed from a general "annoyance" that I was beginning to feel with the numerous references to September 11, 2001 that were beginning to pop up on TV, my facebook & twitter feeds, and in general conversation.  Photos of the towers with the words "Never Forget" and "We will always remember"...I was getting annoyed. You're beginning to agree with the heartless description, aren't you? Before you begin leaving ugly comments, let me explain myself. On September 11, 2001, I (as many...

I'm having one of those mornings. It feels like it could turn into one of those days.  But I refuse to believe that this feeling is going to last all day.  I think it's just hitting me hard because I'm sitting here in a quiet house with nothing to do but think about what it was that put me in this mood. (And no, it's not sentimentality over my kids going off to school.  Don't you all know me better then that by now?) I'll survive.  Tomorrow I'll (probably) be fine.  But for today, my mind wants to shut the world out, shed a tear (or two or three), eat a pan of brownies and have a big ol' pity party. I think I'll just eat the pan of brownies. And then I will go indulge myself in the love of a new baby girl who one day, when she's old enough to talk, may very well call me "Aunt Candy" And for now that's enough to make me smile. Okay, that AND the pan of brownies.