Noise, Noise, Noise

I want to write.  It is my intention to write.  I sat down with the plan to write.  I have taken some time off over the last 6 months.  I haven't written much.  It's not that I didn't have much to say, I had plenty to say.  But I had to go into the fox hole my brothers.  I had to hunker down and concentrate on life.  I had to find a way to make it through some obstacles, jump some land mines and keep my head down.  Sometimes I took shots, sometimes I dodged.  Mostly, I just tried to keep my wits and come out the other side.  I did.  And I feel good.  I've got everyone here.  I've got every one safe and happy.  I am ready to write again. 

Except it's not quiet.  It's  very loud.  It's always loud.  It will never be quiet again.  I have sacrificed quiet.  I have given it up.  Coming out of the fox hole I discovered a land riddled with noise.  It begs the question, was it like that before and did I get used to it or is this something new?  I don't know but that fox hole is looking pretty good.

I am in my chair.  It's 12:30 at night.  I have something that I think will be funny, a nice little story that ends with me being awesome.  Those are my favorite type of stories, the ones where if enough ladies read them I'm sure I will start getting panties mailed to me.  I am the blogging version of Mick Jagger, if I can only get this one funny story out. 

Bacon Hoss decides that this is the time to start crying.  No big deal, this is third time around for me.  I was ready for it.  And for some reason, he doesn't seem too loud to me.  It seems that Little Hoss was way louder when she was a baby or maybe I was just a parenting noob getting owned by my daughter.  That's possible. 

I pick Bacon Hoss up.  He likes to be held and I like doing it.  No worries.  He's still a bit fussy but I can still write while I bounce him at 12:30 am.  I've got mad parenting skills.  I may juggle cats next, I'm that good. 

The TV is on though and I am starting to notice it.  It bothers me a little bit.  Not much, but just a little bit.  It's reruns of The West Wing.  My mother in law and wife have been watching them this first week home.  Hossmom can't really do much so TV has become her friend.  She feeds Bacon Hoss, she watches TV, feeds Bacon Hoss, watches TV.  But combined with my son crying the TV is starting to be a distraction.  There were no distractions in the fox hole.  I look at what I'm writing and apparently Iran is working on a hard water reactor.  This is used in the making of plutonium, very bad.  I do not know why I wrote this as I don't do much with nuclear reactors but it's in there.  It's in there because Josh Lymon has been talking about it on the West Wing. 

The TV is on because my mother in law is in town giving some much appreciated assistance this week.  However, she can't go to sleep unless the TV is on in the background like it is back at her house.  I believe that she has a sleep timer on her TV.  I don't have one on here.  I curse my stupidity.  My good looks often get in the way of my brain.  That and my extreme narcissism.  She is sleeping on the couch because that is the only place we have a TV.  Hossmom has some principle about no TVs in bedrooms.  I almost divorced her because of this. 

My mother in law, who's help is appreciated, is snoring during the West Wing and Bacon Hoss fussing.  Not loud, but enough that it is noticeable.   Maybe I wouldn't have noticed it if things would have been different, but currently I am comparing her snore to my wife's. 

Hossmom went to bed at 9.  She's tired, it takes a lot out of a person creating life.  I wouldn't know, I only supply the genetic material then head to my fox hole where it is safe from criticism and judgement.  And it's quiet.  Since Hossmom isn't to spry after a c-section I have the baby monitor on so that I can hear her upstairs should she need anything.  The last thing I need is her coming back down stairs and popping a stitch because she needed a glass of water.  That would not be good and something that my fox hole cannot protect me from.  

Since the baby monitor is on, I can hear Hossmom's snore.  Although she and her mother might get a little miffed if I call them "snores".  So let's call them the sounds that a gorilla makes while it is being eaten by a crocodile that is being raped by a seal.  I have never heard that but I imagine it is something like what these two beautiful ladies got going on.  It's like whale song just not relaxing, beautiful or awe inspiring.  It's terrifying.  And distracting.  Toby Zieglar has decided to weigh in on the heavy water thing. 

I want to write.  I have things to say.  I have experiences to relate.  I have victories to document.  But at the moment it appears that I am in the worst movie in the world but it has great surround sound. 

I feel like the Grinch when he complains about Whoville because of all the "noise, noise, noise!"  It occurs to me that the Grinch wasn't an old green shitheel.  He was just a blogger trying to get something down on paper.  He's really misunderstood, that's all. 

I could head down to my fox hole. I could find it again, maybe if I looked really hard, like Die Hard.  Maybe I could throw in some movie one liners such as "I'm never coming back!."  Something like that.  But to do so, I would have to leave the serenade of snoring played over a baby fussing backdrop.  Besides, I kind of want to know what Barlett has to say about this water thing.  I'm also starting to think that if I listen to all the noises together at once and for long enough I might be able to get some sort of message that is being transmitted to me. 

I think it's saying to me that the answer is 42, I just don't know the question yet.