Thursday, July 17, 2014

Swirl. Noise. World. Spinning.

In the moment when my seven-year-old son ran into the room full of knitting Ethiopian ladies excitedly exclaiming "Moooom!" as I scooped him up in a hug even though he's way too leggy for that these days, we were on display.  The room was packed.  There was a summertime energy in the air with the door and windows open, and I know that the knitting Ethiopian ladies were not the ones excitedly yelling my name.

There was conversation to the three new ladies about who this kid was who had his arms and legs wrapped around me.  I don't like feeling on display but I also know that I would write about this more except currently my house is full of the noise of the Disney pandora station, my kids cleaning the kitchen and discussing the little they know about World War 2.

Then I'll brush and brush and brush and brush my hair...wondering when my life begin?...lights will appear just like they do on my birthday each year, what is it like out there where they ... dishwasher loaded.... "Mother actually doesn't know best in that movie, you know, because that's not really her mother--it's a witch. Mom, is Tarzan really popular? So that's why there's so many songs that keep coming up...Mom, you usually really cry in this song..."

I will be here don't you cry.  Cause you'll be in my heart...from this day on now and forever more.

Lump.  Throat.

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