At times I feel identityless. Times when I have not a single answer. Times like this, hours into it, you still howl from your crib. "Moooommmmmmmm!" you scream, your throat raw -- you just won't let it go. And I too am drawn into this drama with no manual, no schooling, no clue. We've read so many books. Sung all our songs. We've tucked every baby and puppy and ballerina into the crib. I've wiped down the counters with ferocity, picked up each apple littering the yard, hauled them up to the compost, my valiant attempts at distraction, at staying away.
Right now there is nothing beyond your crying. I can't pretend that anything I have to do is important. You are having some sort of yelling match with them now. Singing. Screaming.
You are suddenly two and I feel stripped of all power. "Mama!" it hits me in the gut. There is nothing beyond this voice.
2 comments:
damn girl. you are a poet if i know it. and a mama to a two year old. mollie was here last night and she said she really got this post. it's visceral. love you.
dang. I am not gonna lie that this two year-oldness that other mamas to a two year-old understand scares the shit out of me cause I will have a newborn at that time...I suppose we just take it as it comes, eh? Hope your girl is sleeping. Thanks for throwing this out there. Good stuff, friend.
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