SO, currently sitting by the woodstove in my beautiful home. Envy me. Really. Spend your time wishing you had a woodstove, and a beautiful home. I can show you all sorts of pictures on instagram of the beauty in the nooks and crannys and the sparkle lights I love so much. I can. You should. You could.
when i am sitting by my woodstove, in the glow of flames, i am tending a mysteriously sick child. and i am tending her as she lies on the floor at my feet, because she is six and needs to be kept warm. and she needs to be kept warm here, at my feet, because the rest of the house is without heat.
thanks reality. thanks a whole bunch.
the plumber couldn’t find the part, so we’re on day two of no boiler and the boys went to school… albeit late because sleeping on the floor in the kitchen really sucked, so we needed more of it and we missed the bus.
the youngest went to my mom’s, where she had her own queensized bed and heat, and I realize i’ve somehow gotten my priorities out of whack.
mom kept the stove topped up all night so was a nightmare of a logistician this morning. she also spent her time in the night walking around checking on the space heaters, because those are death traps.
this is her own problem, this ‘vigilance’ thing. she is working on it. ( oh my god, i slipped into third personing without even being aware. holy mo.)
rargh. now the babe is home. we had reached the school parking lot when she started crying and moaning about her belly and i just do not have any juice left. and i refuse to do something i am going to regret. (which is weighted, i know)
so home we are, and she fell right to sleep, which probably means she’s legit sick. or just scared by the whole night away experience. i don’t know. the boys stayed here and we crashed together, and ache together now.
So i’m here, in my lovely reality. and honest to god, thats where the real beauty is.
finding it in the mess. finding beauty in the money fears… watching the light come through the plastic-covered windows, seeing the disco ball spin from a draft, realizing how little the littlest still is…
the world is fucking amazing. and my dirty dishes in the sink and the fucking chaos of my campkitchen right now? its the nirvana that i get. its what i get.
and i’m taking it.
1 thought on “Wild-eyed.”
The double seeing, always the double seeing, the peculiar blessing of those whose life lacks easy. I hear you loud and clear and like you I still try to claim the beauty because it is there