I am presently spread too thin. My mind is filled with the future. Moving? Staying? Here? There? Nowhere? Each day I’m fluttering through the house doing, and looking for something to do to keep myself busy. I read to the kids because I value a little mind that grows into a big one. I value time spent touching on a couch with an open book and endless questions that hammer away after every single sentence.
“And so the prince…” Mom, why does he wear shoes like a woman?
“He’s not a woman. They use to wear heels back then. The artist formerly known as Prince still does! Shhh… And so the prince…”
Mom! Why his nose so big?
“I don’t know. Because he’s a Jewish prince. Let me read, please…. And so the Prince….”
Mamma! Do you think Darth Vader is Jewish?
“Can I just get through this sentence?”
Then I do laundry. Next bake some bread. Naps, house beautification continues, garden watering and picking of squash that has grown too large. What to do with all this squash? Read a recipe. Go online. My search lists 8000 squash recipes???? Ok, more work to sift through.
I want to exercise so I bring out the yoga mat and do my 30 minutes. This keeps my butt from heading south the way that butts do whence you’ve had children and are over 30. It’s a reality we all try to avoid thanks to Hollywood. I fall under the spell. I’m also committed to health and strength into old age, so yoga it is!
I love my life. Being home is amazing. I am an introvert who is surrounded by extroverts and my time in the home is solitude. Then the phone rings and it’s someone asking me to teach or help watch their kids (a train I am ashamedly NEVER anxious to jump on. I love my kids, but I probably don’t like yours!- I’m growing still), a dinner to host (it’s my turn to cook for 12 people and Matt’s not around to help watch the kids while I labor over homemade noodles in a mushroom sauce!). Now to be with a husband that wants sex, A LOT! Then the kids wake at 6:30 am like clockwork. This is life. Glorious, beautiful, electrifying life! Greased lightening (minus the naughty undertones). Suck it’s marrow out and live off of the juicy insides (again, no naughty undertones implied). I know it to be true.
This phase of life is a strange one in which I have small people in the prime of their development and each month or week brings newness. Today Oliver was at the top of the stairs during nap time and I came up to find him wearing my running shoes with a silly look on his face. I should have laughed because it was amazingly cute. But I frowned at him and said, “Buddy, why aren’t you in bed?” Nothing wrong with capturing him and taking him back to bed. But I’m spread so thin these days that nothing is funny.
Where is the Tracie who made fun of everything and made others laugh regularly because “life isn’t THAT serious”? Where is the foxy girl that took a walk whenever she felt like it and found countless bits of information entertaining and interesting? Is she hidden away in a trunk full of old, broken toys? Maybe she’s in a basket filled with children’s books, or in the laundry basket waiting to be folded. Maybe folded in a sheet that once had a child’s ‘accident’ seeped into it’s Egyptian cotton fibers. Maybe she’s the mattress that holds the husband, or the mattress that holds a sleeping child as he dreams about pumpkins eating the house. She’s the biggest presence and force in this home, I’m sure of that, but I think she’s spread into so many portions of home and life that you can’t totally see her form anymore. It’s not that she is invisible but more that she’s sort of omnipresent yet not really herself right now.
What a frazzling and breathtaking time in my life! I am able to be spread this far and wide without having the urge to drive my car off a precipice while clutching a copy of To Kill A Mockingbird. I am beginning to know my limits and my breaking points. I’m saying no to things that take me outside of the home for the first time in a long time because I’d like my days with young children to be a delight.
I know that as soon as you exhale, it’s all over.