i have a frown on my face. my body feels heavy and my focus is fractured. i’m unable to give anything any thought longer than a minute.
except the thought i miss my family.
this quiet, this solitude i craved is too much, too big, too not what i truly want. i want to return to the chaos of my family, the lack of privacy, and time, and choice. i want my day to be structured around the babies mac and making them laugh and chalk drawings and leggos and fisher price toys and guessing when sister E will wake up and how do i get her to buy that adorable dress and walks around the neighborhood and laundry (no quarters needed!) and shopping and ways to help sister J cool down and talking and sharp bursts of misunderstanding and letting our hair down and wearing PJs until 2pm because there’s never time to shower and change when the babies mac are awake and commanding attention and emptying the dishwasher and making dinner and a too small kitchen table and when to ask dad to make us cocktails and naps and misguided tours and that pantry and bagels and ice cream and shuffling the cards for mom because her thumbs are sore from too many years of doing that exact motion and technological adventures and laughter and discussions with bro-in-law T about bird bones and moving trucks and how even he likes THE HUNGER GAMES.
i want to walk over to the sink and find it full of dishes, even though i just did them 15 minutes ago. it’s life lived messily, but loved cleanly.
i want to be where one equals one family instead of just me.