Tuesday, January 12, 2010

BlogSorting: A Re-post Triptych

BlogSorting: A Re-post Triptych because I thought they all sort of fit together nicely

I have become a relatively small country with no natural borders...

At some point in the night I have been joined by "I had a bad dream" and "My room is too quiet". Perfectly normal sized three- and four-year-olds, once ensconced safely in mom's bed, unfurl to gargantuan, circus-freak-worthy proportions. I have two knees magnetized to my ribcage. I have an arm flung Stretch-Armstrong style across my hips. Somehow one of them has ended up upside down & I have a toddler size-10 lodged somewhere at the base of my skull.

I've considered bringing a fork to bed for defense.

It is impossible to sleep.

And so I lay there, listening to the wall clock ticking softly, the metal hands shushing across the metal face. I hear small snuffly breathing from the interlopers and louder snores from the one still crib-bound downstairs. And I smile despite myself.

It would be easy to resent my lack of space, of privacy, but I keep relearning how easy it is to lose great chunks of your life due to lack of attention. And I desperately want to remember this. When my family all fits into one small bed. When my heart can be full even if just for a moment, buried under far flung toddler limbs.


I am perversely pleased, waking up at 3am curled inorganically into a toddler bed.The soft sour-sweet milk breath of my son fans my face. His heart beats triple time against mine, even in sleep.

I've lost all feeling in my left leg from the knee down and it prickles pins and needles as I flex it awake.
My stomach rumbles & I wonder if it is either too early or too late for barbque...

Earlier that day, studying the cracks in her hand, Belle asked me why our skin was so cracked.

"Did God make us broken that way?" she asked.

I nodded, once, & opened my mouth to explain.

"We're little," chimed in Baz. "So he had to use lots of little pieces to put us all together to make one big good thing."

I kind of love that

Sometimes the simplest most childlike answer is the best...


My daughter is wearing hot pink leggings, a red satin Christmas dress (complete with white fur-trimmed jacket and stole), multicolored striped socks and black 'tap tap' shoes today.

I let her pick out her own outfit, cautioning it didn't exactly match...

When I dropped her off at the daycare three of her friends immediately ran up, hugged her and complimented her on her looking "so pretty today!"

Her look of triumph as she cast a haughty glance at me over her shoulder and waved bye, being dragged toward the playhouse, was epic.

Apparantly, I have no fashion sense.


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