Painted this because I love Bielen's work.

 This bear was my lunch date.

 The view from Olivia's school library.

 This face. I just adore her. 4 is amazing.

I feel so much love for this little guy.

 

Can't keep on top of the clutter. I realized yesterday that I have to start buying the giant jar of peanut butter. We go through the small one in four days. Soap bars disappear quickly, and I must change the roll of toilet paper once a day.

photos by molly, age 4

and then she went to preschool. 

=(

                NOT sure how THIS happened. 

=(

What do I say?

 I am a fraud?

 I am not what I expect others to be to me?

I am a bad friend.

 This I know.

 I want so much to be accepted.

But I accept no one.

Briefly.

And it is always fun.

But I cut it off.

I am unsure why I do this.

I miss these relationships.

Even mourn for them.

But I let them go.

Each and every one.

Then I am sad when they move on.

No Christmas card.

No calls.

I deserve it.

I disappoint.

And yet, I think I am a great friend.


All evidence to the contrary.

Molly is fine, and Summer is almost over. It's been a really great one.

Let's see. How can I exactly explain my worry. 
It's keeping me up all night. It's making me unable to sit still. I feel like I should empty my cabinets, and rearrange and purge. Maybe if things around me were less cluttered, and in order, I would feel a sense of control, at a time I feel utterly out of control. 
But I suspect, that if everything were as neat as a pin, however neat that implies, I would still look for something else to do. 
I am afraid to drive on highways. The kind like Route 80. But I feel like heading West on it. Maybe if I could distance myself from the confusion, and worry, I could escape it. But that isn't possible. 
Sleep brings no relief. It is creeping into my dream. Making me wake up at night, and feel the bed shake with each fast beat of my heart. 
Molly, my sweet beautiful Molly, has something growing in her. Something that needs to be biopsied. I had to call a surgeon for her yesterday. We have to wait two long weeks to see him. 
I felt it the other night, and envisioned myself cutting it our of her with my exacto knife. 
Two weeks seems like a long time to let something simmer away.