First of all, when one writes, one has to have inspiration. Check! My kids provide

plenty of that. One also has to have at least a generic grasp of our language. Check!

Thank you to all the English teachers out there and my parents for making me do my

homework.

One also is required to have at least a slight ability to keep readers interested. Check! I

don’t think I’m a master at this, but I still get to submit my piece, so thank you Mr. Editor

Clinton Harmon!

All of that said, to actually get thoughts on paper, you must also have time, energy and

really a bit of quiet. That’s so cute. When you have kids, ‘quiet’ is just a mere memory.

My kids are country crazy and just plain loud. We come from a family of very

experienced communicators (a nice way of saying I’ve been accused of talking a lot),

and we are not passive in our endeavors with this. We even whisper loud.

Here it is time for a new Path, and I’ll tell ya my friends, I’m tired. When the words don’t

hit me to flow on the paper, then it just feels stifled. My desire isn’t to force a story

about just anything, but about something that hits home.

Once in a while, life gets in the way. Such is the situation this week. I’m worn out. I’m

completely worn out and I don’t exactly have a reason why. I could say I haven’t had

enough sleep, but it’s not true. Slept like a log. I know. I’ll get a few Amens and a few

‘quit your whining’ comments with that.

I could say that the kids were restless and wouldn’t go to bed. Also not true. Teenie

was dreaming so deep last night, she was giggling. I did notice a stark difference in this

apparent REM cycle, from the other night, wherein I heard her say, “I don’t want

pepperoni on my pizza”. Of course then I just wanted pizza. Still not the reason for

being tired.

I’d like to blame it on working 70 hours a week at my job. Can’t do that either. I have a

life. My job is not my life. It’s a part of it. A means to an end if you will. Love it, don’t

get me wrong, but my work is not my sanctuary. My wild at-home life is.

Note: I actually feel sorry for people who don’t see that need to balance work/life. Trust

me when I say you are missing out on some super-great fun if you spend most of your

life at a job. The people there are great, but the people you create your life at home

with, are more than awesome most of the time. Mine are anyway, and I’d like to think

it’s because I work on my home life.

Still yet, none of that is really getting to the bottom of it.

But…after writing on this article for a short time, maybe I shouldn’t be trying so hard to

pinpoint my sheer exhaustion.

Maybe the answer is that I am tired because I actually am living life.

I may not travel around the world, but I do travel to the Mannford soccer fields quite a

bit.

I may not change the world with my inventions, but I find creative ways to fix a cut or a

scratch when we don’t have band aids in the house.

Maybe I’m not a professional singer on stage every night, but I make my kiddos laugh

like crazy when I sing in the shower or in the car.

I may not have my own national cooking show but I make a mean peanut butter and

jelly sandwich for some rockin’ school lunches.

My star might not ever be added to the Hollywood Walk of Fame, but I am requested to

sign my autograph to a good number of field trip permission slips.

I really am tired. I wasn’t lying about that. But I’m not sick and tired. And I’m not sick of

being tired. I guess maybe I’m a little grateful for being tired. A yawn now and then, or

a good smack on the snooze button once in a while, is just a good reminder that I really

am Carpet’ ing my Diems. Pronounced Car Pay Dee Um for those of you who are not

doing such.

I hope you are tired too. It means you are living a life. I hope it’s a great life. Mine is

crazy just about every day, but man oh man, every day above ground is a chance to

improve on the last one. And yeah, maybe even catch a nap every now and then to

keep up.