Saturday, July 13, 2013

Push and Pull

The weather's been so weird

Blazing hot
turned to
turned to
turned to

The air feels
still and heavy.

Paul's been working a lot
and so have I.

And we kind of just pass one another
in the halls of our home
and the halls of our life
and we're working to pay bills
from the past
and build dreams
for the future;
working to keep the train moving,
all housekeeping
and play dates,
basketball schedules
and school applications.

And everything is safe
and calm
and very sane.

It's all

I meant sane.

I meant same.

I'm not used to either.

What do you do
when you've
spent your whole life
telling yourself
you're a seeker
and a wild child
and everything you've sought
is here in your hand
and all the wild
is anchored,
to dreams
that have actually come true?

That question
flaps its wings inside of me
I don't know the answer.

Probably because
the neurosis in me
can't comprehend
the simplicity of
enjoy it.

My friends are all having babies.

Instagram feeds
a mile long
filled to the brim
with wrinkly newborn skin
and soft downy hair.

My babies are 9 and 5.

I don't have babies,
I have boys.

I can't remember
the weight of them in my arms,
and I so long to.

Presently I exist
with an ever lingering
sentimental craving
for another baby.

This desire to remember,
and be,
to plan and make
to soak it all in
because I didn't do that with
my other pregnancies.

I was propelled through the experience;
holding onto my sanity as best I could,
pretending to not be afraid,
just trying to survive man
and now they sleep through the night
and they smell like sweat
and they dress themselves
I want back into Babyland.

Ticket please.

I had a meltdown yesterday.

There was traffic
I was hot
I was tired
James had basketball in an hour
I couldn't find Lucas' basketball shorts
my job is exhausting and unfulfilling
we struggle to make ends meet
I kept thinking about all of this
then Paul found me in the boys' room
wrestling with the hamper
the dam burst.

Because I'm still
just trying to survive man.

But also trying to hang onto
every morsel of this life
because it's flying by.

Days and weeks and months
and grades
and please don't let go of my hand
and please let me be here
without being concerned with there
and tomorrow
and shopping lists
and laundry
and food menus.

This is my mom's life.

I have my mom's life.

And I feel like an imposter sometimes.

And then I feel trapped.

And then I feel guilty for feeling trapped
because this is all I ever wanted.

"And you want another one",
Paul will say
as he holds my tear-streaked face
and keeps kissing my nose while I sob.

And I do not undervalue
the man who loves me in such a way
that I can fall apart like that,
he who keeps a straight face
while I cry over my perceived ineptitude.

Holds me silently
as I stand in the middle of the chaos
that is every day living
for a family of four,
because this is some real shit you guys,
no Instagram filter here.

I've fallen from Neverland.

I used to be a Lost Boy
but now I am a pirate.

Plus side:
I get to ride the coattails
of my two Pans.

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