Wednesday, June 1, 2011

It is late.

We are moved. The children and hubsJ are nestled in their beds in new places in the rooms of my mother's house. I am here, after having read so many writings that I have missed, the mothers of the world who regularly write in this place, with their messups and tried hards and their questions and answers and photos and wonderings, its a big mashup of yes! most of the time, and it is good. the move is done, everything but what i brought on my back is in a box somewhere waiting to be unloaded...and thats really all i have to say about that. it is done. 
we are having our summer days right now, the stretch of green into sprinkler spray, the re-learning patience in a structure-less day...the putting off of errands, the quick hum of a fullbody tick-check, the summer haircuts to ease the tangle's lives.
My hearing is on-hold right now, as it was during most of the move.  An infection upon infection and I am weaving a very quiet world view right now.  I don't think I'll be around here very much as to parent in this large place I need to have eyes involved, no rest for the weary. it would be self-defeating, i would imagine. how then would i name myself weary, if i were to take it away?
I've been wondering a lot these days what story I want to tell, which part of life do I want to tell? what i focus on will thrive. what story do I want to tell of my life? is this what there is to me?


Viv said...

I'm glad the move is done. Moving sucks, but, moving while sick is so much worse. Feel better!