Ying and Yang

Item 1) Grace received her first “grounding” yesterday. From 1:00 to bedtime she was sequestered to her room as punishment for her crimes. The hilarity that ensued (I had to hide my admiration in her abilities) was in the form of sticky notes on a fishing rod she fashioned out of silly putty, yarn and a stick. Edie was recruited as the town cryer to announce when a new note had been drafted for my literary consumption – a job she took very seriously as she planted a chair at the base of the stairs for the better part of the afternoon to await a new note. The notes were basically an almost 10 year olds rendition of Johnny Cochrane pleading not guilty. It actually made for a very peaceful afternoon. Which leads me to....

Item 2) I found my Pixies CD when unpacking a box during my peaceful afternoon. Not sure if this is a good or bad thing. It’s for sure good thing Martha Stuart styles because the Pixies are amazing, and you should like them, and they bring out all kinds of feelings and memories for me. It’s for sure a bad thing because they bring out all kinds of memories for me. Memories like going to a Pixies concert when I was super young, across the river from where we lived, with an older guy who had a car who I had only met via telephone. I lied to my parents about who I was going with, I gave no information to anybody about who I was going with and I just went in youthful bliss and fearlessness. I didn’t focus too hard on how I was going to get home, what time I was going to get home, or what repercussions there might be. I was just focused on the moment of me going to the Pixies concert. It all turned out okay, the guy wasn’t a creep, (or he wasn’t into 90 lbs when wet white painted face/hair dyed black young teenage girls). Thank goodness.

While I can bask in the memories, shake my head at my selfish and scary antics, I can’t help but think oh eff, I’m the parent now, and I’m going to be on the receiving end of whatever craziness my own girls heap on me. Yesterday Grace was quickly and swiftly schooled on what happens when you break the rules. After my trip down memory lane, I fear the day when I might not know what rules are being broken.

Ugh, why do I have to analyze EVERYTHING!