So our lives are filled with the profound and the mundane all mixed together. It's odd trying to fully experience the sysmic shifts and life altering moments and still get the dishes washed and dinner cooked. Perhaps it's good though, that we have these concrete tasks to keep us grounded. Otherwise we'd be transfixed and drooling staring into the depths of God's Navel and we'd never get dinner on the table.
My partner in life is at work, he works nights and that means I'm solo parent with the kids in the evenings. I'm dinner cook, dish washer, laundry doer, homework helper, homework cheerleader, homework harpy, homework proofreader, child therapist, resident comedian, medic and so on.
Tonight much of my energy has been spent t helping a child process his feelings after finishing Where the Red Fern Grows. Oh why oh why does the dog ALWAYS have to DIE in children's literature? Why?
I've been listening intently to my teen daughter, waiting for the exact moment when I am supposed to deliver my lines, "And then what happened", "How does that make you feel?" and "NO Way! He so didn't, did he?!"
I've made a nice dinner, swept, done some dishes, thought about doing more dishes, and I've refereed a petty squabble.
My son threw up on his homework. No warning. Hork-splat. I didn't flinch. Worse than the vomit was having to tirelessly cheer him on to restart the assignment from the beginning. But I did, and he did, and it's all good.
My daughter needed help with some computer related tech issue. This is not my area. Dealing with the anger and anxiety surrounding the tech problem however is my thing, and though the problem is still unresolved, daughter's anxiety is bearable, her anger is self righteous and not directed toward herself, me or her brother. This is beautiful.
Periodically throughout the evening I sat at my little red laptop and tried to write a post for the Unicycle. I have been, needless to say, slightly distracted. Big stuff has been happening in my life. I'm tempted to try to write about it, but I don't have the time, but that's okay.
It's 8 p.m. The sink is full of dishes again but it's not bothering me they can sit there, the kids are mostly content, the dog has been out and come in and is wet and smelly and sleeping on the couch, kitties also sleeping though less stinky.
All Hell could break loose at any moment but that's okay. I'm here, I'm ready. I have a moment or two right now to contemplate the Divine Bellybutton but I can trust that life will find something more important for me to do before I get sucked into the void.