Thursday, May 14, 2009

Potty Break

This morning
between packing his lunch and her snack
and my lunch

And making sure that her dance bag,
with patent leather shoes, tights, hairbrush, bobby pins, hair gel, and elastics,
stood ready and waiting for the growing feet
that would inhabit the not-so-tiny-anymore shoes,
yellow-sequined costume a bright spot in a dingy foyer

Checking that his lovey
and extra socks, extra pants, extra underwear, and diaper "just in case"
were safely packed away in his backpack

Jackets on hooks, ready for bodies
Shoes beneath, breathing in anticipation of being worn hard and long

And feeding all of us breakfast--
my whirlwind dance in the 9'x9' kitchen,
Fruity Cheerios down from the top of the fridge, plastic bowls in the cupboard, two down, one gets cereal, one gets cereal and milk
Fiber One, carefully weighed and measured, slurped with a spoon in between
making coffee, filling a sippy cup with milk and a plastic tumbler with water--

"Yes, it's yours."
"Yes, it's fresh."
"Wow, four cheerios stuck together. How about that."
"Yes, you have more stickers on your chart. But it doesn't matter. It's not a competition."

--opening the cereal bar, throw away the wrapper, wipe up the crumbs, dishes in the sink, no, dishwasher; coffeepot churning out the precious deep brown velvet that will get me safely from point A to point B to point C this morning

(Do I have a towel to shower at the gym? Are my sunglasses in my purse? Did I pack enough lunch? Do I need to stop for gas? What is the weather supposed to be today? Will she be cold in shorts? Is it okay for him to get paint on that shirt? What's happening for dinner? How many points do I need to leave for a trip through Wendy's?)

I wanted to sit for one second


And release

(Please let me sit. Please let me just....)

"Yes, I'll untie the knot."
"Yes, your snack is in your bag."
"I won't forget."
"Yes, I want to see that."
"Yes, you are coming with me this morning."
"Yes, we will be on time."

(Thirty seconds without a question. Please.)

"It's downstairs."
"I think it's on your bed."
"No we will not be late."
"No, those aren't your pretzels. Yours are in your lunchbox. Get the food out of the bathroom right now!"

(Just ten seconds?)

"All right! I'm coming!"

Seven seconds. Not long enough.

Thank god I hadn't drunk the coffee yet.

1 comment:

Applecart T. said...

your life is hard and fast. all the time.