Thrown Valve Moments

October 26, 2012 § 1 Comment

Oh the glorious moments after the children are bedded down. I settle myself in my evening safe space, laptop, blackberry, weed, bowl. Lighter. The pressure valve that’s thrown, the release of a big puff of air when you realize you survived another day. Another whole day of kids and husband and life. Disasters, holidays, happy days, homework time, random moments of a practically spiritual nature. And laughing. What else can you do but laugh a lot. That’s how you get them there, give kids roots and give them wings, as my friend Libby would say. I’m sorry I can’t give them more and I’m proud for what I give them. I agonize over every misstep, every fall back and broken expectation. Like fractured glass. Then, there are spelling tests. 96! And the LittleOne says “Mommy, can you scratch my back?” And you do and she throws her head back and says “Ahhhhhhh.” And you can’t believe it!

It’s worth it. For these thrown valve moments.

You Wont Be Rescued From Your Own Denial

August 11, 2012 § 1 Comment

You are scowling.
I say you are not happy.
You get angry and argue the point.
You say most people are just getting by.
I get angry and argue the point.
I say “okay, are you happy?”
You say you are happy.
You are scowling.

Loser

July 5, 2012 § 7 Comments

He is always losing something. His keys, his phone, his iPod, his license, his bank card, his hat, his work shirt. Honey, have you seen the keys? I can’t find my license. Where did those directions go? I lost my sunglasses.

When I was six months pregnant with my first daughter, he put the keys in my purse and promptly FORGOT. We didn’t check it until hours of looking later. At that point we had already contacted the dealer to order new keys. I had missed work. We had called my sister-in-law down from New Hampshire to drive us to GET the new keys and screamed at each other. A lot.

For years, it drove me nuts. I would set up key hooks. We tried a bowl. Nothing I could do, no habit to ingrain, no trick I could teach, no job I could assign could stop him from losing his shit.

Then, one day it just dawned on me in one of those freeing moments where a chunk of that chip on your shoulder that you never admit exists falls away and you breathe deeper than you thought possible. Things like that just happen to him. It’s just part of who he is. Loving him doesn’t including saving him from all pain and aggravation. And I shouldn’t expect him to change who he is. In surrendering to that, I noticed something really amazing.

He always finds what he thought was lost.

City of Sin

July 3, 2012 § 19 Comments

Delicate
Fish fry afternoon
45 minute walk on inferno cement
to polluted ocean
on flush town border

remember when it was just me and you
tripping on Jules coffee
in our ghetto love nest
with our oven-ette
and three cats?
 
Diamond district house paint fume war
Feet slap uneven sidewalk
Storefront ghosts,
like old tyme moth ball ladies
holding bedraggled
parasols against the aging sun

save 3 dollars for ice cream sandwiches
and debate the bus ride back to
the center of the lost land
minorities and poverties
in walmart flip-flops and expensive
cars parked in front of
matchbox apartments
 
carved from mansions of founding sea fathers
when the ocean was king
not the city
the ocean was king
fishing was king of money
and diamonds were bought with the blood of boats
sweat is also salty
 
leaving the cast offs now to reclaim
the elemental home as their own
 
we smelled the ocean every single day,
then the garbage, then the cooking oil
and back in out bed/couch with our bowl/solace
I’d make you dinner and
we’d swear there was nothing
better than two rooms of
our own and freedom
near the ocean.

End of a Day

May 18, 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…

I Found

March 26, 2012 § 1 Comment

I found

your drawing of

an ice cream cone and

knew to follow you down hill in

chuck taylors

There Should Be No Lines

March 18, 2012 § 2 Comments

Posture

January 31, 2012 § 6 Comments

You bent over,
welcomed a secret
from our daughter

in just the right way–
arched eyebrow
slopped neck
cocked ear

I’m blessed

a success
if only in this–
I gave her more dad
than I had.

He’s That Father

January 2, 2012 § Leave a comment

I love
How
You make due

Forward, Back Too

October 6, 2011 § 2 Comments

Tears so heavy
Can barely see
To pack the bowl

Shouldn’t have to
Beg for you
Attention.
Should I?

Where Am I?

You are currently browsing entries tagged with my love at Filling a Hole.

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 943 other followers