A Hazy Shade of Winter

The kids buried in leaves -- I promise they're very much alive!

Today was a rough day, any way you slice it. My babydaddy and I usually don't make our exchanges on the weekend, but today the kids came home at noon. I shoulda known that they'd need some time to acclimate, but I was feeling overwhelmed by the crazy amount of leaves in our yard and banking on the labor of three rather than one to get the job done.

Putting them to work as soon as they got home could've been a set up for a tough afternoon all by itself, but complicating matters was the fight the kids had had the previous night at their Dad's. They were both angry and hurt and hadn't addressed those feelings with one another. This made an already tough set-up into a really painful situation for all of us.

But, as usual, even in the midst of difficulty, there were some bright spots:

1) You can't rake up a whole ton of leaves and not have some pretty serious fun jumping into them, and we did both today.

2) I was able to see my part in the difficulty much more readily than I have in the past, and that helped me communicate more clearly with my kids and think through what I/we will do differently next time. You know, live and learn and all that.

3) I don't know about you, but I can't see a whole bunch of brown leaves in a pile (even if some of ours are brighter colors) -- look around, leaves are brown -- and not have this tune playing in my head:

Time, time, time, see what's become of me.
While I looked around for my possibilities,
I was so hard to please.
But look around, the leaves are brown,
And the sky is a hazy shade of winter.
Hear the salvation army band
Down by the riverside, it's bound to be a better ride
Than what you've got planned,
Carry your cup in your hand.
And look around you, the leaves are brown now,
And the sky is a hazy shade of winter.
Hang on to your hopes, my friend.
That's an easy thing to say but if your hopes should pass away,
It's simply pretend, that you can build them again.
Look around, the grass is high, the fields are ripe,
It's the springtime of my life.
Oh, seasons change with scenery,
Weaving time in a tapestry,
Won't you stop and remember me?
At any convenient time.
Funny how my memory skips while looking over manuscripts
Of unpublished rhyme,
Drinking my vodka and rhyme.
I look around, the leaves are brown,
There's a patch of snow on the ground,
Look around...

And I like that song. Especially the original, but the one by The Bangles isn't bad either...