How long is 5 minutes?
Still in my pajamas. Almost 9:00pm.
I wish I was one of those people who loved staying in their sleep clothes all day, feeling the baggy groove. But I'm not. To me, changing clothes is an integral part of my ability to brush my teeth, my hair, shower, and go outside. This day has been all about the intense philosophical needs of Lola and the need to eat, wear clean clothes, and sit down on a couch free from miscellaneous Lola things when I needed to nurse Pearl to sleep. I am reminded of the mama poets from 50 or 80 years ago who wrote in 5-minute bursts, on whatever they had, whenever they could, forging their own way amidst the currents of child rearing. I tease myself with quick fix daydreams - what if Lola was already out of diapers and used the toilet by herself? What if I had an extra $100 a month for take out? What if we lived in the woods with a pack of dogs and an indoor cat, all snuggly in front of the fireplace? What if Chris's family actually tried to include him and cultivated a sense of family for our daughters to see? What if we already had another source of income that allowed me to work with the girls and write and play all day?
I do miss my two-handed butt time in front of the computer. But you should see me go in 15 minutes when I get it! Writing is easy again. Dishes are washed faster than I can remember in my childless days. I know how to enjoy laying flat on my back for 2 minutes, and make it count. No amount of chaos looks like a disaster anymore. I am truly beginning to see the meaning of "force of nature". Mamas, do you feel it?
These days are my favorite, who am I kidding? I have a life of the mind, even if it's slogging through another round of reassuring questions from my sensitive 3 year old: what does opposite mean? Was the dead otter we saw in that picture a "he" or a "she"? Was the chipmunk a mama? Where did it live? Why? What does "drive" mean? What does "never" mean? How long is 5 minutes?
I wish I was one of those people who loved staying in their sleep clothes all day, feeling the baggy groove. But I'm not. To me, changing clothes is an integral part of my ability to brush my teeth, my hair, shower, and go outside. This day has been all about the intense philosophical needs of Lola and the need to eat, wear clean clothes, and sit down on a couch free from miscellaneous Lola things when I needed to nurse Pearl to sleep. I am reminded of the mama poets from 50 or 80 years ago who wrote in 5-minute bursts, on whatever they had, whenever they could, forging their own way amidst the currents of child rearing. I tease myself with quick fix daydreams - what if Lola was already out of diapers and used the toilet by herself? What if I had an extra $100 a month for take out? What if we lived in the woods with a pack of dogs and an indoor cat, all snuggly in front of the fireplace? What if Chris's family actually tried to include him and cultivated a sense of family for our daughters to see? What if we already had another source of income that allowed me to work with the girls and write and play all day?
I do miss my two-handed butt time in front of the computer. But you should see me go in 15 minutes when I get it! Writing is easy again. Dishes are washed faster than I can remember in my childless days. I know how to enjoy laying flat on my back for 2 minutes, and make it count. No amount of chaos looks like a disaster anymore. I am truly beginning to see the meaning of "force of nature". Mamas, do you feel it?
These days are my favorite, who am I kidding? I have a life of the mind, even if it's slogging through another round of reassuring questions from my sensitive 3 year old: what does opposite mean? Was the dead otter we saw in that picture a "he" or a "she"? Was the chipmunk a mama? Where did it live? Why? What does "drive" mean? What does "never" mean? How long is 5 minutes?
posted by Skim @ 8:53 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home