The elevator to nowhere.
Do you hear that? Yeah, that’s muzak. Muzak plays in my head sometimes when the words won’t come. Most of the songs have no name that I can conjure, even though I recognize the melodies, and I could hum a few bars ahead if you asked me to. But you probably wouldn’t. Would you like to do a really lame, mellow hip shake and head bob with me? No? Suit yourself.
I was vegetating, just now, staring at a blinking cursor for so long that my tongue dried up and got stuck to the roof of my mouth and a weird “glick” sound came out of me when they separated suddenly. That’s when I realized I was just sitting here with my mouth hanging open like a moron. You know the expression – you’d never be caught dead with that expression on your face in the presence of anyone you respect in the least.
Of course, that’s why you usually end up realizing you’re doing it when you’re in the room with someone you idolize and/or adore. Maybe lust. Fortunately, this time, it’s just me and the laptop and a bunch of unfolded laundry. And unless Keifer Sutherland is hiding in the hamper, I think it’s safe to say I got lucky this time. (Or not.)
Sometimes I have so many things I need to say that I literally have a handful of posts, in varying stages of completion, open on my desktop at the same time. Right now, I want to write about something, and my brain just feels, well, dry… like my mouth.
I want to complete a writing challenge, but my heart isn’t in it. I want to tell a funny story, but the words won’t come. It’s not that I’m in a bad mood, or sad. I’m not stressed out, distracted, or overly tired. I’m not depressed, anxious, or tense about anything. But I know when it’s not right, because I feel like I’m forcing something. When it’s good, and real, the words flow onto the screen, and I can’t stop them.
But tonight, I’m just doomed to step on the elevator to nowhere. The lift operator has on one of those funny hats and he won’t even smile at me. He’s kind of cute, though, and it looks like there’s a guitar case propped in the corner behind him. Maybe halfway up, I’ll goose him and see what happens.
I think “The Girl from Ipanema” is playing now. I always liked that one.
Dads Rule
Since I’ve been flitting around - okay, stomping and smashing my way foolishly throughout – this cool bloggy world on the internet, I’ve learned that there are LOTS of Mommy bloggers. And we are kind of all over the golly place. We strive to shoot from the hip, be cool, funny and tell it like it is! We want to be honest, fun, and sincere. We want to get the message out to everyone what our experience is like. We’re all, “this sux, but I <3 it!” Some of us stay at home, some of us work… some have just one (that’s a handful!) and some have multiples. We all hope to be unique – if that’s still possible with so many of us crowding around the table lately. 
And every one of us (come on, admit it) hope that we reach (lots of) others who can identify with our writings, and enjoy them.
You know what else I’ve discovered? There are some amazing Dads blogging out there, too. I mean REALLY amazing.
Let me tell you something. I always knew that John was going to be a good father. He is kind and sensitive in a way that, frankly, I am not. Because of that, I have always been very impressed with his reactions to certain things. He has a perspective that is always new to me – his heart is gentle at times when mine is rough and ugly. Even before we had Braden, he made me pause at things like being incredibly concerned about whether the fish was fed the day before. I didn’t care. He was worried that the fishie was hungry. !? I DIDN’T CARE if the fishie was hungry. (Yes, I sux.) It seems silly, but it’s just an example of the way in which his heart is tender and kind.
After Braden was born, John did not disappoint me. He has been such an incredible father to our son. He loves that little boy with all his heart and soul. Over and over again I see him being sensitive, thoughful, loving, and caring in gentle, kind ways to our child. He amazes me with things like this point of view. Over and over again I see him pushing himself to his limits to provide for us, and longing to be closer to us when he’s far away. Over and over again he proves that even if he doesn’t do every little thing like I think he should (because, don’t you KNOW that I KNOW EVERYTHING?), he does it just right in his own, loving way. Braden makes John into a better person every day, and that’s saying a lot, because John was a great person already. But the love that the son brings out in the father cannot help but make him strive to be better, to do better, to LIVE better.
I see these same things in Dads that I hardly know, but read, here on the internet. Their posts make me laugh, think, and cry because I find them intelligent, touching, sensitive, kind and honest. They speak in such a way that I can clearly see the way that their children make their lives better.
Have you read them?
On this Thursday my Thirteen things are links to great places to find amazing Dad Bloggers. Click. Read. Laugh. Cry. Love. Enjoy. Subscribe.
PS: There are many more than these that are also great. It’s always hard to pick a certain number of any type of blogs to list… Maybe if you read a Dad that you think is awesome, drop a link to him in the comments section, aight? Thanks!
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