South Side of the Sky.

It opens with the sound of footsteps, followed by a howling wind. It then bursts into a heavy, riff-dominated rock song. At around 2:08, Rick Wakeman’s piano comes in along with another few seconds of wind. At around 3:19, Chris Squire, Steve Howe and Jon Anderson start singing wordless vocal harmonies along with the piano. This continues until about 5:42, when the earlier heavy riff part returns, with the wind in the background. The song fades out in the end to the same howling wind that occurred throughout.” [ From Wikipedia]

Why, sometimes, do simple silly things just seem so… difficult?

Like weekday mornings in winter. I don’t want to complain. But aren’t they just the worst.

My feet.

So it’s like: I want the mornings to be good. I want them to be smooth and well managed. I want to get up early. Work out. Get myself ready. Brew some coffee. Gently wake my sweet, sleepy toddler. Get him ready as the sunlight begins to slip into the house. And walk out the door. Why is that so hard?

Instead, I oversleep, space out in the shower, frantically get ready and grumpily wrestle an alligator/toddler out of his nice, warm pajamas.


Finally, when we are both wearing our coats that greatly restrict our movement, and are also made out of the slipperiest sleeping bag material ever, I one-handedly fumble with keys, lunchboxes, diaper bags, laptop bags while trying to hold onto a kid who is already about one third my size and weight. He slowly slides down my sleeping bag of a coat. Scowling at me.


(I’m begging for pity, here, but the fact that I am so tiny, truly does sometimes seem to make it even harder.)

It’s nearly -5 degrees, today. Eddie’s eyes water from the cold. He looks sad… And without breaking eye contact with me, pulls his hat off of his head, and flings it onto the snow-covered ground. Whatever. I’m just going to leave it there.


I scuttle across the sheet of ice that covers the sidewalk. And descend the cracking cement steps. Imagining how much it would suck to slip and fall while holding a baby.


I straddle a pile of snow 6 inches deep between the sidewalk and the car. Attempting to balance on one foot, and all of my items plus baby in one hand, while opening the car door with the other hand, and catapulting Eddie into his car seat, somehow, I guess by the sheer momentum of my body. He cries, of course, as I try to buckle his seat belt. And continues to cry as I clump around the car and flop my now salt-covered body into the driver’s seat and drive him to day care.

Another icicle.

I mean… is it really that bad? Yes, it is so so bad.

Well. Today it is.

When I have these feelings, I try really hard to step out of my own head-space. Because perception of a situation can be so subjective. And it is so true that overall happiness is intimately linked to your outlook on life.

So yeah, I try to have a positive outlook. I remind myself that some people have so much less, and deal with so much more.

I think of my own mother. Who somehow managed to get four kids spanning eleven years of age, out of the door and to day care every morning. I feel a new-found respect for her. And yet, I so do not want to be her. I hear her harried voice as I brush my teeth in the morning:

Don’t dawdle!

She sure didn’t seem happy those weekday mornings. But, she didn’t seem happy very often.

More salt.

Someone wise once told me this: “Someone else having it worse, doesn’t make it easier for you.”

It doesn’t rob you of the right to lament your own shitty, ice-encrusted day.

Come on spring time. I’m not sure how much longer I can last.


2 thoughts on “South Side of the Sky.

  1. I concur. It wasn’t ice today for us. It was rain. So so so much rain. The gullies are full and yet it still rains. Kiddos in rain are about as much fun as kiddos in ice. Unless of course it’s 80 degrees, and there’s a rainbow, and it’s Saturday. Then kiddos in rain would probably be kind of fun. What circumstances would make kiddos in ice fun?

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