Labor Day. A day of no labor but lots, in the parental province. Opened a bottle I technically shouldn’t have, I guess. A Lancaster ’11, Nicole’s, but I’m utterly unconcerned as it was a day, with my son acting defiant as ever then sweet then separatist again, the to that apologetic and contrition-driven wee at whom we can’t be mad. So I’m here on the floor as the writing father wondering what I could have done better or more efficient, or more parental to make the day go smoother. No answer, poor yourself another glass. It’s Labor Day, you should be relaxed, relaxing, not stressing or working but here you are writing your article after a day that’s divided your composition as a parent and writer.
The TV’s on and I’m for some reason watching those BRAVO Housewives shows. Two locations, or casts. I’m not this kind of parent, or as wild and divided as them. And by divided I mean by what I say and what I actually enact in life. This is Labor, watching this. So why am I. Good question. More a statement than anything else, and that statement to myself is, again, don’t think as I do to a point of overthinking, to a point of depriving myself of enriching and encouraging gems. To much labor bleeds out love. And that’s not life, no life at all, but a dull stale crostini of an existence. I turn off the TV, don’t even put any music on, and think more of the day.
Jackie must be merely testing, seeing what kind of voice he can have. He’s smarter than us, I see now, testing his actions and internally graphing and tracking our reactions. Pouring myself another glass after grasping my wife and I have been taken, duped, been puppets. Oh, but we’ll learn from this, more than likely more her than I. She’s much more efficient an internal educator, in this house, than her husband who can’t help but chuckle and bend over in giggle whenever he mocks us or does something clownish. I need to work on that, I know. More labor from me needed in the parental patch. But, I can’t overthink it some tell me while others say I need to be more serious and think more about my presence in his, and his sister’s.
Wasn’t at either “work” today but I was on the clock from before seven this morrow all the way till about 90 minutes ago (just after 9PM). With this quiet, I enjoy a vacation, but I’m thinking of what I can do to be more a steadfast and studious dad. Overthinking? Maybe. But I don’t know what else to do. I have to keep moving, and with another sip from this bottle I think I maybe shouldn’t have opened but “aged” a bit longer. Who cares. I’m being dramatic like those BRAVO twits. So I stop. Remind myself I’m Human, and thank this penner and the day for the day. Have another abyssal englut, and stop thinking so much.