I should probably introduce myself in the normal way.
Laced with some opening “Hi, how are you’s” and other such pleasantries.
But I just can’t. I just can’t do it. I have to do me as me and write as I write. Here goes:
Here I am. Doing what I do. It’s 10:00 at night and I’ve just finished wrangling those kids in bed. Mostly like roping a calf. A calf that has just been fed loads of sugar.
“Wait!,” says the mother cow. “Didn’t that calf just spend all day running and playing in the back pasture and not cleaning up his room like I asked? Shouldn’t that calf be completely tired and ready for bed???”
I look at that mother cow and fist bump her hoof.
“Yes. Yes, Betsy. That baby calf should be so tired he should be falling asleep standing up.”
Betsy and I shake our heads as we finally watch that baby calf and his two brothers drift off to sleep (tonight with a small does of melatonin.)
Since Betsy lacks the fundamental anatomy to accomplish dish washing, she starts on vacuuming. I grab the soap and scrubber, pop in my Airpods® and go to town. Every once in awhile Dave makes it home before bedtime, but often, I do bedtime (*ahem* “calf-roping”) and then lamely tackle some house cleanup and resetting. I’m terrible. I’m slow. Dave is much better at that stuff.
After I pretend to clean up, I rub my proverbial hands together and sit down to write. I’m usually up too late, especially if Dave is working on his admin tasks. We are wonderfully independent and interdependent. We have plenty of space to move around in the relationship and be individuals, but at this point, after 11 years of marriage, I depend on his ideas, his drive, his encouragement. In my life… God is the spark and Dave fans the flames.
Anything that requires a big shot of creativity… bring it right here. The other shots… you can go see Dr. Lin or your friendly neighborhood COVID vaccination drive-thru.
I finish writing and close up my 11-year old laptop. I tuck “Betsy” under my arm and she and I carefully climb the stairs in the dark. I usually slam my toe against some toy that a kid left out or the same bed post that I usually slam my foot against every other week. I try to at least muffle the curse words. I’d rather mangle my toe then have wide-awake kids.
Dave is usually asleep… as I am, by far, the wide-eyed night owl in the relationship. I lay down. Every bone screams in exhaustion but my mind is peaceful and at rest. I talk with the Lord and spend that time enjoying the One my soul longs for. I drift off to sleep knowing that i have said everything that needs to be said for one day, even if no other human ears have heard it.
#momoffourkids #latenightwriting #tiredparents #storytime #introductions
An American humorist, writer and author. When boiling down the chicken soup of life, she finds those golden, fried nuggets of truth & writes them long after the kids go to bed.
March 17, 2021 @ 12:52 am
Enjoy reading your chaotic experiences.
March 17, 2021 @ 1:11 am
Thank you La Cheryl! It’s therapeutic. Maybe brings order to the chaos?