Tuesday, 11:45 a.m.

"Mommy....Where we going?"

"We have an errand to run, sweetie..."

Late Tuesday morning, O and I set off for a little drive. I had a stack of papers with me, and an envelope of money. As we drove, she pointed out her favourite sights. The cows grazing in the field. The river flowing slowly under the old iron bridge. The airplanes taking off from the local airstrip.

"A Dance Party, Mommy?"

"Yeah, Ok...we can listen to some music..."

We drove, listening to the cd that I made of songs that I like. Another generation needs to have an eclectic taste in music, too.

"Mommy! An elevator! We go for a ride?"

"Yes, sweetie...did you want to press the button? Oh..here, here's a note showing us what level we're parked on. Did you want to have it?"

We rode up the elevator to the lobby, passed through the couryard, where people sat, talking, enjoying their lunches. I consulted the building directory. We passed through the metal detector, and found the appropriate office.

"Would your little girl like a lollipop? It'll occupy her while you fill out your paperwork. Here you go...it's pink to match your shirt... Do you have all of the forms already filled out? You need to fill out a vital statistics form. Do you have someone who can serve the papers to your husband? You cannot be the one to do that. Here...you can stamp your case number on your copies. Here's a list of the other papers that you have to fill out. Did you get the information on the parenting seminar that has to be attended before the final decree? Here's your receipt...have a nice day..."

I read a lot of blogs. I love getting a glimpse into another person's life. Their thoughts. A posting by Crazy Aunt Purl really hit home. Especially this quote:

I read an article last week that talks about how we save our worst behavior for our spouses or loved ones, treating them with less compassion and kindness than we would our assistant, or our co-workers. I vow to never do that, think maybe that was one of the contributing factors in the downfall of my marriage, I don't know, I never will know. But if my neighbors ever overhear me making noise, I want them to be hearing my laugh or my friends cutting up or middle-of-the-night sounds, and never, ever the yelling.

There has been too much ugliness. Too many things said, and too many things done that people who are supposed to love each other should not do. Too much hurt. Too much, that it doesn't even really register anymore. Too much yelling.

Far too much yelling.