not-so-sticky

My father never knew what to do with me. I lived alone with him from the age of 10 on, and I realize he really did the best he could as a single father with a preteen daughter. I wouldn't have wanted to trade places with him. Now that I'm on the caregiver side, I'm more empathetic with his motives even if the actions sometimes seemed askew. He was concerned with my well-being and success, and tried to point me in the right direction, but I imagine it was hard for him to know what the right direction was. Unfortunately, growing up has unmasked the illusion that parents always know best. We can aim to be good parents but it's a constant practice, not an end goal of perfection to be attained. As the primary caregiver of my father, I practice to be a good caregiver. But I will be the first to admit that my practice falls short from time to time. With diligence, I pick up and try again. And so did Dad. Again, and again. And that really is something. * * * The importa...

Liam slept in this morning; he didn't wake up until nearly 6:30. By this time, our pillows had been confiscated by the interloping children who were all sleeping horizontally instead of vertically, leaving little room for either Dana or me. I was only half asleep when Liam leaned over and kissed my head. Then he flopped his head back down on the pillow, smiling, his fuzzy hair frizzy from sleep. I was peeking at him, my eyes half open. Perhaps he'd go back to sleep? Liam sat up again and kissed me again with his sloppy drool mouth. Then he flopped back on the pillow again. It was cute. I heard the hall creek in the way it does when Grandpa Bob is wandering in it. It's funny how when you have lived with someone for awhile, you learn to know the sound their steps make. Dana and Lily were sound asleep still. Liam was ready to go. I can't think of anything sexier than when someone lets me sleep in...the only thing that comes close is watching men vacuum. That is very sexy....