Thursday, January 17, 2013
Presently the sun is making a monumental effort to break through the relentless gray--and it has been with us so long that I am having trouble remembering what our place looks like in the sunshine.
I've been unpleasantly busy the last two weeks, with school having started again and with it the struggle to get everyone--myself included--back into some sort of a routine. Everyone is suffering from too much energy and not enough outdoor play time, as it is not only cold, but incredibly muddy, and I just don't feel up to piling on and peeling off layers of clothes and doing extra laundry on account of the mud-caked clothing. I have not been heating our school room or my work room, so we tend to get in one another's way a lot, all but Una, who, feeling unwell most of this week, has pretty much holed up in her room.
In spite of all my activity, I look around and am thoroughly appalled by what I see: sticky floors, dusty picture frames, a cook top that really needs a good cleaning, and finger marks on the door frames. I have a great desire to streamline and eliminate a huge amount of stuff, to really purge the house of all that is superfluous. But I haven't the energy...the spirit is willing, but the flesh is apathetic. It is all I can do to do what absolutely must be done. All else is shrugged off.
I rush about through the day throwing longing glances at my knitting basket as I rush by. "Time to start dinner," I lamented in Una's presence yesterday, "and I haven't touched my sock all day." Una raised her eyebrows and laughed at how that sounded, but knew that I referred to the sock I am knitting, the very first. I just want to find a cozy Hobbit hole with a fireplace and an overstuffed chair, plenty of tea and wine and pastries, and a basket full of knitting projects. I don't like feeling this way--I have to fight the impulse to be short and Not Very Nice with my children. Not that they have been Very Nice, cooped up as they are right now, but that is beside the point; someone has to be the grownup here. And unfortunately, I'm the only one with the credentials...
Una tells me that growing old is inevitable, but growing up is optional, and listening to old faves from the 80's (and a few new favorites) on the MP3 is helpful in getting me to function without feeling the urge to hide from everyone. I can pretend, for a short time, at least, that I don't have an unwell teen, four boys periodically pounding one another and a three year old who has discovered the effect her piercing shriek has on others--and relishes it. Somehow all the frenetic activity around me seems easier to accept when put to an energetic soundtrack...
Life is so strange...how did I get to be the grown-up in charge...?
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