Wednesday, January 7, 2009

Unstoppable repetition

I am in a grand funk. GRAND. The chimney is slowly collapsing, the door handle is gone and has to be pryed open each time I go to the car, the three year old is unceasing in his aggressive play (normal boy, i know, but UNCEASING), the mice are playing poker in the waterlogged basement, i am never ever going to stop doing laundry or picking up other people's shit, both literal and toy-based. And I am just in a goddamned funk about it. I have a half an hour left before I have to slog through the streets to get the threeyearold back from his heavenly school and then I'm back to refereeing and trying to save the one year old from destruction. When does the play turn into the graceful swandive of irony and self-adjustment, knowledge of one's own physicality? hmm?
ANd while all this repetition exists in my daily life, my hubby gets friendly with the bar down the street yet again. glad to know he gets a break now and again, right? shure.
again is the word of the day, Fucking AGAIN

-- and later in the day, i am sitting on the couch stroking the foreheads of my two sons, one blonde, one red - and its a long straight sigh of contentment. one sleeping and one just resting and everything smoothes out for a minute or two. I know that chaos will return shortly but hiatus is a wonder.