Dear Reader,

It has been a long while, too long a while, since I have written in this space.  I  have often composed the words in my head, only to have them dance away again.  The leaves have turned from green to yellow to brown and red and loosened their grip from the trees. Strong winds and rain have sent them skittering to the ground, across the dying yard and into the road.  Today it feels like that is me.  Clinging desperately, battling hopelessly against the inevitable, losing my grip and destined to fall and shatter, yet hoping that tomorrow is better.

The boy and I are at loggerheads over school.  Who knew grade six would be this horrible?  Oh the MATHEMATICS.  The email reminders about missing assignments and failing grades.  I ask about homework and he is clueless.  "Mom, it's fine!" alternates with "I don't know!" and "What is WRONG with me?"  And he comes home without the right book, or hasn't written down his assignments or can't explain what this means or.... blergh.  We've changed study routines and times and tried reorganizing his notebook.... and still the beat goes on.  Louder, and louder until my head throbs with coefficients, distributive properties and equivalent expressions.

The girl is 8 going on 18.  She insists she is old enough to dress herself, even though her fashion sense is less than stellar.  Black and brown mixed together, Uggs and shorts, summer dresses in the winter.... it dements me.  She's decided she should be home-schooled because the boys at her lunch table mix all their food together and "it completely grosses me out Mom!"  We'd last ten minutes before one of us exploded I reckon! I'd say odds are high it would be me doing the exploding.

The sun sets before 6 pm now.  My body tells me it is bedtime long before I have finished with the day. Crawling into bed at 8 sounds perfectly reasonable, but is in fact counterproductive.  The laundry, dishes, lunch boxes, baths.... I'm quite certain that the world will end if it isn't done.  Perhaps I should leave them alone today and see if the Mayans were right?

It is all too much.  No end in sight.  School, sports, music, homework, work....  Time and energy to pursue things untried is slipping away.  Soon, if only, when this finishes, or that wraps up.... there will always be something new to fill the calendar.

So, I am taking a risk.

Going out on a limb and doing something that is absolutely for me and is highly unlikely to bear fruit (at least financially), but perhaps it will bear fruit in my head and in my soul.  As the busyness only increases, I realize that the timing will never be perfect for me to do it.  So I've coughed up a considerable sum to take a writing course.  Gulp.  I keep thinking I could have purchased matching end tables or a new headboard, or repainted the kitchen with this money, but hey, I think I might have earned a little something for me.  I won't have anything to show for it.  Nothing with any trade or resell value, nothing tangible at all.  But what of it it it is something that brings me joy and satisfaction and the knowledge that I wanted something and I'm taking a shot at it.  Who knows, three months ago I couldn't run a mile and on October 6 I ran a 5K.  I'm doing this.

Taking a chance on me.  I think I'm worth it.