Oh, the blogging, how I’ve missed you. Not really. I do sit once in awhile and attempt to write something that is informative, interesting, and has something or another to do with our lives, but somehow, I don’t. I assume it has something to do with marriage, fatherhood, work, stress, life… stuff that inhibits the mind being able to create complete sentences.
On the other hand, it could just be I’ve lost interest in sharing my life. Ok. That’s not true. I’m a complete idiot on Twitter with little snippets of idiotic ramblings concerning my life. My thoughts on life. My thoughts on other peoples lives. Thoughts on farm animals and so on. Perhaps I should twitblog. I don’t know if that’s a thing but if it is, perhaps I should do it.
One of the reasons I tweet rather than actual sitting down at a computer and typing words, is that I’ve been spending most of my days in the truck. The work truck. Just cruising the country side with just me and my thoughts. Which is quite scary actually. My thoughts that is, though I’ve been told I have a rather intimidating figure. Which is usually dismissed after a few minutes of talking with me. That and we have a 5 month old son who occupies a lot of space. Space once used for my sitting and typing and thinking and stupidity is now inhabited by farting and pooping and crying and laughing and bending and attempts at speech.
The baby does some of that too, of course.
It’s quite wonderful really, if I may use an English sounding phrase. “It’s quite wonderful, really”. (You just need to imagine my English accent) So much of my life was spent single,
Irma in June
childless and in homes for the criminally insane that I never really understood the coolness of the kid thing. My nieces and nephews are awesome but then you see this brand new human being jump into the world without a clue that its a horrible, wicked place, (the world) and that you had a part in creating him and realize what a miracle babies are.
“Whatever dude. Blah blah blah.” says the peanut gallery, ” My baby’s a genius. Life is a miracle…..Overdramatize much?”
Yeah, I get it. Everyone always says the same thing. Ask any parent of a newborn and through dark, baggy, cloudy eyes they will say “He/She is a miracle”. I’m not sure until you hold this bag of fat with eyeballs in your arms and see him as yours, will the miracle ever be seen. Baby poop is a joy of biblical proportion. Just think about it. This little thing is sucking up the milk, and then pooping it out in disgusting smelly ways! C’mon! Poop is a miracle! There. Deal with it.
- Little Ricky at 4 months
God is a bio-engineer of godly proportions. Yes. I just said that. I couldn’t think of anything really to compare the awesomeness of it. Maybe that’s why I don’t blog much anymore. I’m a horrible writer and describer of things.
Anyhoo, life is good.. even when it’s bad. You know what I mean? ….. Vern.
Though, just between me and you, if it weren’t for my wife, my mom, my dad and my God, I might be bouncing off the walls right now….you know, more than I do normally….just saying.
I’ll get back to regular posts of junk soon. Though this blog may be titled “Ricky AND Irma, Irma prefers not to embrace the limelight…. err… something like that. I really need a thesaurus.