My daughter is a write. She's a story-teller. She's a truth-sayer. She just doesn't quite realize it. In a stroke of non-original genius, I suggested she start a blog. Typing feels less intrusive to her and she feels it's faster than writing. I tend to agree. So, in an effort to support her, I figured I should walk the talk....and write each day as well.
These will ramble. These will not make much sense. These are a practice in the process, not the outcome. I just want to write again - and not care about readership. I don't even know if I'll publish these. Maybe I'll just write. I tend to get hooked into valuing myself based on others. Blogging is much like that drug for this type of addiction. Oh geez. Maybe I shouldn't encourage E's blogging...but perhaps she'll be better able to find her way. She sure has a better sense of who she is than I ever did.
As I type, one child is doing math per his request (I don't actually know this kid...but he showed up yesterday and he looks ALOT like my oldest son and I tend to have a crush on my oldest son so I'm just going with it.) Another is listening to a book on tape while cleaning her portion of the bedroom - they all share space. I'm not sure where my youngest son is right now but I'm banking on him being with his prized stuffed animal. He got this new toy over the weekend. He and his twin are breaking their respective sucking habits - fingers and blankets. This is a big deal and reminds me much of breast weaning. It's hard shit, man. They've lost a way of self-soothing and are challenged to find another. Makes me think of all the ways adults self-soothe...food, shopping, alcohol, drugs, sex, Facebook. I'm interested in seeing what habit replaces the other. May it be healthy. May they feel safe. May we all feel loved.
My oldest is waiting for her turn at the computer. The clanging of silverware and cups echoes from the kitchen. When did she get tall enough to reach everything? When did I get old enough to have four kids? How can it be that I've been married for 16 years? I find this all amazing - what our minds can understand (2+2) and what they cannot (time.)
Such is the human experience - understanding the trivial, yet being mystified by what matters.