The corners of my mouse pad peel up.
Sharp. Hard. Thin. Curling inward.
Narrowing the borders.
This stupid piece of foam.
Coated in Synthetic Polymers.
Ruining my mood.
How did my life become intertwined
with something so disposable.
So worthless. Cheap graphics.
Sunny beach. Vacation logo.
Monopoly on navigation and movement.
I’ll show the world. Scissors.
Square becomes octagon.
Another day free of tyranny.
Joy and pain always come together. They chase each other, neither one willing to abandon the race.
I’m not a napper. I don’t nap. It’s too painful to try and fail. But I’m on vacation so today I popped in a movie while everyone but the littles were still skiing. And I crawled into bed. It was like I had lit a flare and run around the room yelling “come climb all over me.” Cause that is what they did. And it turns out I loved it. Because there was nothing I had to do afterward. No stress about the exhaustion to come. So we had two hours of physical play and laughter. And I just want to remember it. Reese always forcing herself into the middle. Mac making tickle attack plans. Pretending we don’t have teeth. Laughing at Mac for sucking in his nostrils. Today. Joy.
I’m hunted. Bears. A tiger.
Last night a bull.
Sometimes my children are with me.
Mac seems to get away from me often.
And I run panicked through doors at ridiculously slow speeds.
Latches won’t engage. Locks won’t lock.
And every minute the animals get closer.
Heavy. Panting. Hungry.
I hear it’s common to dream these things.
The bull wanted Reese.
I threw her to a stranger on a high wall.
He charged and I woke up. Wondering.
The bull is new. Not hungry. Just raging mad.
All my best intentions.
Left for the end of the day.
It’s ridiculous. And dishonest.
Cause everyone knows that I shut down at six.
And the witch that lives in my brain takes over
and reigns terror on all my offspring.
Still, she just might be the feisty bitch I need
to address all my best intentions.
I just can’t do anything. But let them crawl all over me. Hugging is on the table. And smiles. But nothing else. Today they are learning life skills and independence. I’ll use this as reassurance that they might survive for longer than a hot minute without me.