Tuesday, September 22, 2009

hip hop you don't stop

So, she says, do you wear the same four outfits every week? I laugh a little and say I do. And in cubicle world I am sure it gets noticed. But you know, still. She cases me a little so, is what you have on one of your outfits? I'm wearing jeans and a shirt and after 12 hours I'm sloppy. After 2 hours I'm probably sloppy. Yes I say.

She runs up the stairs and comes back down. She's holding two dresses. I don't wear these anymore she says and hands them to me. They are lovely and casual and nice all at once. Really? I say and she smiles. Try them on she says. She hands them over and I understand again how you never really know till you know. How every day is a series of little gifts and sparkly rainbows. Of tears and longing. Of realizing how alive you are in the presence of others and outside of your usual routine.

And this is how it's been, this new world of couch surfing and depending on friends, of catching cabs and flights and morphing one world into the next. Of the kindness of strangers and also your friends. I'm busy and I'm lonely and I'm full and I miss my family and I like the work and I have fallen asleep on the floor and guest beds and once a bit tipsy after a long night of red wine and the most delicious chilean sea bass I've ever tasted.

I miss my home. I desperately miss my kid, a few weeks away from her has been like a gaping wound that no amount of skype or phone calls can cure. I miss her smell and her giggle and I miss the jungle and even the dirty heat. I feel like I'm the worst mom in the world. I fall in love with her father all over again without him even knowing it.

So I'll zig to my zag, this brave new world we've created, one foot in the first and the other in the third, there is no playbook for this and so we go day by day wondering if this is right or that is right or what it all means and in the end it means we are still living, one of us hasn't left the jungle and two of us have gone back and forth and the third, the girl third has been back and forth for two months now, an upside down sort of something that feels shaky and stable all at once.

So the radio silence has been just that. Of not knowing what to say and of having to say too much.

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Magpie said...

I was wondering where you were. Your life is full of joy and chaos.

Kyla said...

So much for simplifying, eh? ;)

You're making it work, though, you always do.

krista said...

so good to see your words here...hell, man, i even appreciate your radio silence. it feels full even when i don't get to see your name.

Anonymous said...

I don't think there's a parent alive who doesn't regularly feel like they're doing an awful job. I think that if you think that way, it's a sign you're probably pretty good. Truly awful parents probably aren't that worried about it. Which is to say, I'm sure you're doing fine, and my thoughts are with you while you chart this course. Go easy on yourself.

painted maypole said...

you're living life. your life. beautifully.

Bon said...

i think its endemic and unstoppable, the guilt thing. i feel like the worst mom in the world just going out for drinks with coworkers for the first time in four years. and i felt like the worst mom in the world home holding her in my arms at two months old but trying to read just one more blog or even just fold the laundry. it's mad, the consumingness of parenthood on one hand and life on the other, and if you have work you like and it's keeping the jungle dream beating then good, good. it will not be forever, this crazy. and it has to be hard. but walk tall, friend. the little one, she'll be alright.

flowerpower13169 said...

And this too shall pass.

P.S. I missed you