on the subject of children

two of my children are in pain. one hurts teh ache of teh broken-hearted, the other is simply depressed. the latter is my fault. i lead him one, i will admit it freely. i did not mean to though, which is never a satisfactory defense, and one that i must take care not to have to use in the future. and now he is coming down froma binge, and predictably, feels like merde. i tried the friends with benefits thing, but it simply did not work. i could see him treading the path that would injure him, and i stopped what i was doing as soon as i could, but he was still hurt, and i do accept that as fully my fault. i was not ready for a relationship when we started this whole affair, and i am not certian i am even ready for one now. though i do have to say that i am at least starting to notice people agian... which my friends say is good, they say i was brooding... *gak* as if...and after all, he was one of my children, and i feel like i should hang myself like odepious's mother for even thinking of kissing one of my pets...
the other child was dumped (horrid word), quite bluntly. he was quite infatuated with the girl. there is nothing i can do to heal another's broken heart (i couldn't even heal my own at first), but i do wish it were diffrent, because one of my children is in pain, and i feel all stupidly maternal, without any right to feel so. it is none of my buisness, i am sure, but i still feel like i should be tending to the aches and pains of mine beloved. though, after all, if you've been adopted into the eckerd clan, we do reserve the right to ply you with hugs and food until you smile for us.
any how
i feel like a very old lady with a thousand grandnieces and grandnephews. and they will never know what things their cookie giver and hug tender feels in the deepest recesses of her heart... what she thrills to in the depth of night, who steals her heart, and who breaks it. they will only know of the willow, reaching down to enfold them in her boughs, cradling them close until they are ready to leave the shelter of a child-anchient's arms and start on their ways agian, with never a thought of the one who gave them love. as it should be.
i have found an angel. i would very very much like to paint him, but he is also a very tichy kind of person with a rapier wit and a foul sort of sarcasm. he's ok, but i really do wish he'd not speak to me half the time... but gods, when he plays that cello, he looks like one of the botticelli angels...and i want him to sit for me very very much... *sigh* i want nothing to do with him romantically, but i do want him to sit still, shut up, and play his cello long enough for me to spin off a canvass *though it might not be as good as i want, most times my vision exceeds my skill*