Revisionist tale
i pick up and put away fallen toys and random
pieces of clothes and imagine my life before. when
floors were bare and so was the refrigerator and there
was no rush to fill it nor prepare dinner because ‘who eats?’
on Fridays anyway, not me & i exhale
winded after constant bending and rising, straightening items
that stand less than four feet tall, preparing to vacuum. in amazement
that in a four year-span brown can become gray expanse
and worries change in chameleon fashion from single and dating
to play dates and naps. quiet time alone, now, a coveted reward instead
of an unwanted declaration. i replace
markers to their bins, dolls to their perches and dress-up clothes to
their closet. closing the door, i remember unfinished tasks that
await in the next room and consume the silence in thirsty
gratefulness, undaunted by her impending arrival.
“Being at home can be fun, insulating, relaxed, boring or isolating ... depending on how the day is going.”*
School holidays are almost over in my part of the world – six long weeks of noise and squabbling balanced by hot, lazy days at the beach or the pool with lots of daring exploits and laughter. Many of our days were spent at home, basking in simple pleasures like baking, playing games or outdoor pursuits – trying to relax the everyday routines of school-morning bustle and ‘having to be somewhere on time’. However pleasant, I must admit to being relieved that life gets back to normal next week, and I can reclaim some of my own time for writing again!
* From Being Mummy by Anne‑marie Taplin published April 2007