Last night David and I watched a violent movie. In the beginning, it showed a montage of videos from the 1980's where the Berlin Wall was featured. People protesting and picketing. It showed a particularly poignant clip from a speech President Reagan gave in which he said, "Tear down this wall!" and then right after that words came across the screen that said something about how in 1989 after years of fighting and division, the wall would come down. And then, in true 80's form, neon stenciled words were painted on the screen that said, "This is NOT that story."
Just a few minutes ago I was laying in my bed with David on one side, Sadie on the other side of him on the floor, and Nevie on the floor next to me. Nevie asked if she could hold my hand to which I said of course. David then slowly and delicately clutched my hand and brought it closer to his body. As I lay there, thoughts of love and peace came quickly into my mind as I smiled gently and squeezed the hands of those of whom I was holding.
Jk. This is not that story.
This is not the story of the awareness I have for people who may never get to experience the blessings I have in my life of children and a husband who love me. I think of those people every day. But this is not that story.
Behind the scenes, I was desperate for escape. I thought about waiting until they had all fallen asleep to make my way back into the comfort of my cave in the late night (the living room) but Nevie seemed to tire of holding my hand and she let go. Phew. I thought it was a sign from mini-Pope. So I gave David a kiss on the cheek mouth and came down to my sanctuary.
Today has been a particularly rough day. Not because my children are bad. Not because anything went wrong (although I have some words for the customer service of Skype) but because I need a break. I need a break from the mundane. I need a human-free escape. No offense. Kind of.
I was going to message my friend and tell her I was having a mental breakdown and that I was telling her because then if I did actually have one, people might think I was less crazy because at least I acknowledged it. Right?
I homeschool my kids. I'm mostly with them 24 hours a day and 7 days a week. It's hardly less than that. I've been struggling with that lately. I need something that is all mine. I want a class. Or a night of the week. Or 1 hour every day. And sure, it's totally up to me to create that space. But is it? Because it seems like when I do, something inevitable happens. I want the universe to create it for me. Is that too much to ask? lol.
I mean my kids are old enough to fend for themselves when I need to pee. Yet it still happens to be the most popular time of the day. I literally don't get two minutes to myself and this isn't a Basic Girl use of the word. It's literal. Except not really because there are times when I am cleaning the kitchen and for some reason, no one wants to be around me then. I guess I should change it to, most of the time I don't get two minutes to myself.
For now, I'm going to soak up this time late at night when all is quiet and watch the show that makes everyone cry. I really like that story.
Tuesday, November 21, 2017
That Story
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I sooo know all too well about this! I miss your stinkin face!
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