End of a Day
May 18th, 2012 § 6 Comments
“Mommy!”
He kept them up last night till I got home from overtime. It was like heaven.
“Mommy! Mommy! I got all smiley faces!!”
“Mommmmmeeee mommmeeeee potty!”
She with the blackish brown eyes ran at me and hugged my belly.
The LittleOne ran at me and hugged my legs. A blond and brown pony tail met my eyes as I looked down at my babies, my growing, loving babies that I created. I carried. I care for.
“Ok, back here to finish your stories.” My Love is beaming from the bed, knowing he did a nice, RIGHT thing, proud of himself for lasting ONE MORE DAY as a single dad while I work the 7 to 7 overtime. More money for our struggling family. The little pony tails bounce back to the bed. They climb up, but still face me, chattering like sparrows.
“Mommy, I have a splinter you need to get out.” She with the blackish brown eyes shows me her soft palm, with a tiny sliver of wood in it. My heart soars. I AM the one who deals with splinters. He can’t take it, but moms have to do the things that cause pain to create healing.
“Booboo! Booboo!” Not to be outdone, The LittleOne shows me a fresh shin bruise that I simply must kiss immediately.
Off to get the tweezers, my eyes fill a little. Yes, I’m tired (boy there should be a different word for HOW tired), so a little emotion is predictable.
But really, it was honest joy. Look at all my gifts…
Growing Babies
May 1st, 2012 § Leave a Comment
Of the human garden
Its equal opportunity
Fertile
Short mercy
Glory
Swallow and dissolve
Striations
Ruby bullets
Tells
Capacity to know
Less successful at forgetting.
You want them to be silly hearts
Erosion
April 2nd, 2012 § 3 Comments
Shortly before reading this post by Uneven Stephen, I had a very bad dream.
I tend to have dreams where I am at the ocean, usually on the beach or on a cement boardwalk overlooking the sand and the water. These dreams usually involve the ocean rising, washing to unknown high levels, eroding the beach to a steep precipice. There is falling in, there is a realization of the ocean towering over me, washing me away, washing me under the curl. Or worse, someone I love.
The recent dream was much the same. I sensed my father there. We were on the cement boardwalk and it was understood that my Meme ( french for grandmother) was sick, and had been placed at the edge of the water in a beach chair to absorb the sun. Reclined and sleeping, her snores reached me above her. Then before my eyes and in slow motion snap shots, she starts to slide into a now high, calm tide. She is slipping and snoring. I am terrified. I cannot just let her go, I have to save her. I see her face resting on the ocean chomped edge of sand while the rest of her is already devoured by the surface far more lake-like than ocean. She isn’t under yet. Between then and when I jump in, she slips down and through my fingers. I cannot find her.
It’s still so much that I need her. She died a long time ago.
Anyway…the dream has been bothering me. I’m lonely. Can it all boil down to being lonely, that I ache for that unconditional love?
That Explains The Butter
March 22nd, 2012 § 6 Comments
My husband found the loaf of bread hidden, near my side of the bed.
The Tip
March 20th, 2012 § 2 Comments
The bus is the usual level of crowded, all two-seaters partially occupied by loosies, us solo commuters. The new buses have this step up section in the back and “kids” still flock there. But its early and there are only two, sitting together.
Today I end up in the very last seat before the back section. This particular driver is young, and a fucking mad man. I find myself bracing my knees against the seat in front of me and closing my eyes to ignore the risky driving. Buses are big. And I’m getting old.
He pulls into the station. Collecting myself, I accidentally pull out my earphones. I’m holding my bus pass and iPod since I’m not wearing my jeans or coat. No pockets. Add my purse to the mix and all of a sudden, I’m a frazzled nerd back in high school. Until the next thing happens.
The bus has been emptying the whole time, another rule violation. I’m in the seat closest to the back door, I should be first out. That’s my perk. But my hesitation has cost me my privilege, so now I’m awkwardly waiting, my OCD brain telling me I better be poised to go, otherwise the bus might leave without letting me off.
“Go ‘head.” This school aged child, taking the bus with her brother (presumably) is smiling at me from the top of the stairs and respectfully waiting for me to go first. I smile and in relief scramble off the bus. She exits after and runs happily to catch up with her brother, her whole life ahead of her.
I think of how I’d like to reward her. Here kid, I think, have one of my life experiences. Maybe it will save you some trouble.
Her back pack bounces as she runs…
So She Says II: A List
March 15th, 2012 § 2 Comments
Let me get you started:
Good mother, wife and friend.
Gifted writer.
Believer in fairies and fate and God.
Dreamer who hasn’t lost her faith in love.
