I have a sort of love-hate relationship with sleep lately. I always feel worse upon waking than I do when I lay my sorry head down at night, so I've had a bit of a battle with finding an appropriate time to actually hit the hay.
Tonight, Man synched up our backup drive with my computer. The image files coming off of it were interfering with the show I was trying to stream. That was annoying. Taking a look at the Picassa import, it appeared to be a random collection of art that came with some cd-making kit Man keeps around for his music. I scoffed at the clip art that was harshing my entertainment and told all the files to go into one file named "garbage".
The upload began and the little 1/2" thumb nails started flickering through clip art, but then they began unfolding a chronological tale of my life in pictures. The past 5 years was literally flashing before my eyes. My children, sunsets, paper roses my husband has given me, every megabyte piling in heaps somewhere in "garbage".
Funny how the things that feel like they're intruding on my current project might appear so trivial, yet mean absolutely everything. It's a perspective I've been trying to keep in mind when Princess asks me to color with her, Pebbles asks me to paint her nails, Tag comes up and hugs me and says "mom, I love you so, so much" (real quote) and when Freida interrupts me just so she can give me her special brand of blat-kiss.
And then I realize that it's the computer I should be annoyed with, interrupting my time with these little people. Even Freida's body and face are elongating into that kid physique. There isn't much baby left about her nowadays.
What folder do I toss those real life moments into?
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