The nice weather has arrived. Finally! But with that the doorbell rings at 9 am on a Saturday. Neighbor kids want mine to come out to play. I just want to walk around on the weekend with no bra on and maybe leave the bathroom door open? Maybe not scare the other parents when they come to find out where their kids are? Because believe it or not, I need large amounts of concealer and a good hair brushing or I am a very scary woman.
These kids- my own and who knows who else's- keep knocking down my lampshade.
Some days there are too many to keep track of.
Some days, there just aren't enough. My throat is sore from all the scolding and correcting and my head hits the pillow and I wonder how my children can love me. The one person that is always telling them what not to do or not to jump on or not to eat off the ground or out of their nose.
Tomorrow I'll start over. Tomorrow is always like the day before.
I can't believe the girl I used to be, squandering away her days of nothing and if I could just have a taste of those moments of a room all to myself, door closed and listening to music for hours. Nowhere to be and no one else that needs me.
She was so empty. And I, although I some days appear to be falling apart. I am full.
I have pillows that won't stay on the couch. Dishes that won't stay clean. And, oh. That darn lampshade again.
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