The end of a lazy day

At the end of a lazy day like today, I am faced with my own conscience. Am I the reason I have the lack of freedoms I find so offensive. I see all around me the life I am leaving for my children. How I am leaving them with less than I had as a child. Less innocence, less monetary value, less childhood. There is a direct disconnect between what I believe and what I am willing to die for. I am constantly horrified by what evils the United States is willing to be involved in. We can not hope to help our children to become less brain washed by the world around them. It is a complacency I see and rebuke but can not see a viable end to. Help is unwashed and unable to be heard. Let us teach our children to problem solve, to think for themselves, to reject what they are served on a platter and to confront the reality with which they are served. I am hoping they will feel empowered rather than enslaved. Given the power to enact real change rather than to just bow to the power that is.When will we have enough? When will we say I will not bow? When will we fight, to the death, for the things we believe in? Is it time?

Good Night and Good Luck

Aaah We have come to the end of a very long day. I slowly climb the stairs to my second floor, check in on my children, then a well deserved shower to wash the days toils off my back. With Nora Jones singing softly from the speakers, I crawl into one of my husbands giant shirts and onto our bed. The shirt smells vaguely of him and I pause to embrace it. Cheesy? Yes. Silly and girlish? Double yes. But as he is still working nights I do what I can not to miss him.
Today was my children's last school day of the year. I remember the sheer joy and heady intoxicating feeling of freedom I always felt as a school girl on days like this. The summer ripe with possibilities.  I hope my kids feel something like that tonight as they lay their heads down. Dreaming of what the next months might bring.
In preparation for my oldest leaving her high school for another, more college friendly one, we decided to throw her an end of the year party. We have been busy little worker bees baking cupcakes, decorating the house and cleaning all the little forgotten corners who's dirt seem glaring obvious when expecting guests. With all the excitement and planning, I am truly exhausted and bid the nebulous of cyberspace goodnight.

(I am including a photo of our baking masterpieces)

Nights

I assume if I lived alone with my children I would be the most booring person. It is now 9 o`clock. The doors have been locked, kids put to bed, lights out and I have retreated to my bedroom. If my husband were home, we would be having some interesting conversation or watching a movie or having a glass of wine. When he is gone, I find I watch mindless drivel on tv and have less than intellectual conversations. 
I miss him when he works nights. I suppose it is just further proof he makes me a better person. (But don't tell him. I don't want him to get a big head)