Talk to me

Indecision is the first clue, then guilt. Spontaneous creativity that normally makes family life fun begins to fade, replaced by direct, plain spoken instructions like, “Go to your room. Close the door. Come out when you’re no longer interested in insulting your brother.”
I wrote in this frame of mind earlier today. I clicked publish then took down the post a few minutes later. The subject is too dear to let it slide into the world at an almost-sideways moment. What I wrote had nothing to do with parenting issues, but my perception was probably lopsided or nearly so.
Before actually beginning to tilt, I dropped my boys off at grandma’s house, grouched at her in an only half joking way, left, called my husband at work and made light of anything I could think to make funnier in the retelling. We did have a good laugh, laughing at ourselves, or, in this case, me.
While my kids enjoy movie night with grandma and grandpa, I’m clomping around town righting myself. Exchanged a broken coffee maker for a new one, meandered around the health food store and now I’m at a grocery store cafe eating heavily cayenned hummus, string cheese and a latte.
I’m posting minutiae because it helps me straighten up and fly grateful, see my life in an accurate light.
I’m overwhelmed by beauty yet again. Yesterday our children’s theater company had a family potluck – a joyous occasion lasting from 6-10pm following an intense day of rehearsal from 1-5pm. Our show opens in three weeks. Delight and determination side by side, each living in my bones as we near opening night.
Deep breath. In my mind, I close my eyes, spin and spin and spin, my arms stretched up as if waiting to catch sunshine. I gain speed, lift off and slide through the ceiling, like magic, out into space. I am weightless and free. From here I know, all is well.