top of page

in the mud...

I can hear...the water trickling through the ice machine...the clock ticking above the basement door...the occasional drip of the rain on the house...and that’s it. Amazing how loud silence can be. I should light the gas logs and cozy up with a book on the couch, but I find myself counting down the minutes until I can go and pick up Jude from school.

Sam woke me this morning to drive him to the middle school. He starts much later than the other two, and usually has to get up at six-thirty to ride with his dad and brothers. He then hangs out in the high school media center until eight-thirty and walks over to start his day at nine. I got to spend fifteen whole minutes with him and ask him about his week.

I’ve worked three p.m. to three a.m. the last two days. Which means that my family and I have passed each other in sleeping since Tuesday night. I want to say this is a new normal...but I don’t even know what normal is anymore. The ground...quite solid beneath my feet for 15 feels muddy. Sticky. I feel clumsy, trying to walk in it...on it. Slipping and squishing on land I’m not familiar with. I want to just plop down in the mud.

And wait for pick-up time. I’ll be the first mom in line.

bottom of page