Patty Kraskoff-Quick

I’m sitting here tonight and Brent say’s “Goodnight, Honey I’m going to bed.”  I give him a kiss and sit here with some much appreciated solitude as all the kids are in bed.  I’m doing some computer catch-up and Facebook surfing when I see him walk through the living room and hear him go outside.  I’m not to interested because I just assume that he is making sure everything is locked or that he is peeing off the deck, either way it’s a pretty normal occurrence and by this point I’m pretty engrossed in what I’m doing that I just don’t really care.  A few minutes pass and he walks back through the living room and says “Night Sweaty” and I respond with “K” since I am still not distracted enough nor interested enough to really think about what he’s up too.

A little while passes and he walks out again.  This time my curiosity peaks and I look up and say ” Is everything okay?”  and he says “Yeah, I just heard some raccoons on the wood pile.”  I say, “Really?  What does that sound like?”  He responds with “I don’t know…Raccoons on a wood pile.’  I reply “Well, you should take a flashlight out and scare them away.”  To which he replies, “I already did.”  And then I ask “What are they doing on the wood pile?”  He looks me straight in the face and says “One of them is trying to mate with the other, so he’s throwing wood off the wood pile to impress her.”  To which I proclaim “Really!! They do that???”  He looks at me and says “No, Honey – I’m not a raccoon expert but I’m pretty sure they don’t!”

He stands there and laughs so hard he starts choking and crying and by this point I realize how gullible I am and start laughing too.  When I’m finished with my hysteria and he stops coughing/crying he says “Really Honey?  Am I a raccoon expert”  And I say “You said it so convincingly that I just assumed you knew what you where talking about.”  We cracked up some more and then he kisses my forehead and say “Night Honey” and I say” Good night Raccoon Expert.”  I’m still laughing to myself…..

So throughout the years I’ve always loved the saying “Put your big girl panties on and deal with it!”  As I’m thinking of this tonight I can’t help but feel like my “Big girl panties (BGP)” in my 30’s are a lot  bigger than they used to be in my 20’s.  They are a lot harder to pull up and it is definitely harder to stuff my momma butt and tummy into.  I seem to remember that in my 20’s my BGP where the tiniest floss-like thong in my panty drawer and they seamed to be able  to have the power to get any job done.  Might I also say they made me feel very sexy whilst getting things done – not they same with the BGP of the 30 some years I am now.

I was intimidated to start this blog…first of all, am I that interesting to others that they would actually read what I have to say?  Hmmmm….maybe not, but I am interesting enough to myself to put the words out there.

My dear little brother set this up for me and for the longest time I couldn’t bring myself to write.  He then pointed out that he found me interesting…and yes, my head swelled and I figured, eh, why not?   I’ll at the very least have one person to follow me.

I’m not certain of how others feel, but honestly I don’t think I’m alone in the fact that I have random thoughts run rampantly through my mind and feel the urge to write them out.  Sometimes it’s stuff that I come to the conclusion to, sometimes it’s things that happen that I ponder and roll around in my head until I find my own way of explaining them,  sometimes it’s these weird metaphors  that make sense to me that I have the need to tell someone about and then sometimes it’s just the crazy stuff that happens in life that seems so funny to me.

And here I begin…a blog of the blog that goes through my mind.

Like the soil that needs the rain
To make the grass be green again.
My tongue thirsts conversations we’ve had,
It’s a drought and I’m so sad.

Where is Coolidge Lane?
Was it a dream? Was I insane?
But I remember dancing in the rain,
Painted seashells uncovered my pain.

You are fine, like a warm thought.
Obscure, maybe but still I fought
To keep you in my dream, my dear.
Still you became distant, as I feared.

Am I the dream? No, I’m still here.
You left me my sweet, sweet dear,
But I am still here…