Feelings

Thirteen loads of laundry ooze out of Caleb's pack-n-play.

Faster than Eli's flying grape juice, I'll rescue my ESV study Bible, train the toddler's temper, and orchestrate dinner extraordinaire.

Caleb's cough escalates. Vick's Vapor Rub on a washcloth down his onsie and he'll be cured by morning. No hurdle can stall supermom.

"I'll do that later", pledges Prince Procrastinator as I banish boxes of books to the garage. Turn the soup to simmer. Breathe.

Crash!

The laundry room shelving lands on the floor. My foot finds the sharp point of a spilled tack.

I fall on my face.

"Honey, call for pizza."

The Clown

Fastening the slightly misaligned buttons of my blouse,
I ponder the veer that brought me here.

I slide into my trousers, their wide legs hiding my wasting frame.
I cinch them with a bright belt.

The neon orange jacket's glare keeps the tourists' gaze short,
their bodies at a distance.

But, to be safe, I paint a smile over my lips
and cover my eyes with bright paint.

In giant sized shoes my clumsiness appears intentional.
I prefer laughter to pity.

Laughter blankets my pain. Bringing others even momentary happiness gives me hope.
One day, I know, I too, may own joy.

Today

Adult interaction abounded.
Past achievements rewarded.
Conversations engrossed.
Blessings, I believe.

My Erin played with Brandie's Luke.
Brandie laughed at her three-year-old queries.
"Why does the alligator get slimy in water?"
I heard second hand.

Eli smiled at Brandie and waved bye-bye.
What did he think about his day?
His not-quite-two vocabulary can't say.
I wonder if anyone noticed.

I picked Caleb up.
An elephant replaced his outfit's dinosaur.
Spit up?
I didn't clean it.

I gleaned writing tips and publishing tricks.
My resume scored a job interview.
Conversations with my husband rose above body fluids and children's crises.
Fulfillment, I wonder.