phew

jumpin jahosafat (and I wonder if the edimology of the phrase did not stem from a slang of jump in just who's so fat, perhaps used to coax a fat girl into jumping into a jump rope, double dutch, even, but that's a digression from the impetus for the phrase), it's 10Am, do you know where your children are?... and why aren't you with them?.. oh, they are with someone else who is molding their tender impressionable minds, someone very likely earning a lot less than you and certainly less than your average licensed plumber, electrician, auto-worker, or trucker that you entrust to turn them into the people they shall become, while you are working elsewhere on more important projects?... don't want to think of it in just those terms, do you?... well, you put it your way then...

but who am I to talk, I've not created any children to give away before they lose all of their baby teeth, or even grow in any of their baby teeth, in many cases... I am not judging, simply observing and stating what I see... and remembering what I experienced... and I love the way I turned out, though I would like closer bonds with family and would have liked to have known any of my biological family... inside me, however, I'm just as I want to be in almost every way (and when I'm not lazy or playing dumb, I love myself as I am in every way I can and am open to exploring new ways all the time...

so a child does not need a home and family or nurturing from biological parents or any family to turn out happy and healthy and full of life and love for everything and everyone... it's really a choice each child must make for his or herself... and maybe it is easier to fall into the poor me self pity trap of feeling deprived and underprivileged (because it's so easy to get labeled as such and it is so easy to buy into the label), but that does not mean a child must choose the easy way... it may seem harder to thumb your nose at the cultural pressures and labels, it may seem easier to take the hand-outs and buy into the idea that the world owes you something, but in the end that choice just makes becoming a whole secure together balanced person all the more challenging (and near impossible in many cases)... but all thise is beside the point, after all...

and so I return from the gym all gung ho about being me again... even though my shoulders droop and my head wobbles and my arms are limp and legs are numbish and tingling and my stomach is on the queasy side of bubbly and I am dripping wet with sweat and my fingers feel like lead, each labored sigh is a quiet cheer for me...

and my intention is to toss up a few more entries behind the candoor and maybe even come right up to RealTime (everywhere else must wait for MoreTime, which is an extended play version of RealTime), or at least a few steps closer... if I can stay awake that long... and then it's wake up and prepare for work and repeat, rinse, lather, rinse, and repeat again... washing there was time for more, for myself and the child inside of me, even... but the good news is that I made it to the gym after work today...

so I get back from the gym after work and drop into the chair soaking and type until my eyes close and consciousness fade away like so much frost on a window in the warmth of an after-storm sunrise...

till, tomorrow, nite nite...