Saturday, March 11, 2006

Saturday

The rain is coming down despite a blue sky peeking through the gray-black clouds. From my place in the office, I can hear the constant watery noise, I can see the blue. D isn't home at all today as he's gone on a quick trip to State Line with his buddies for some gambling. Makes me laugh because he doesn't really gamble or drink. He loves to ride the wave of energy his friends give off and laugh at their antics. He'll play video poker and maybe, maybe, if he's brave, try a hand or two of Texas Hold'em.

In the meantime, I'm sneaking on the computer every so often to read blogs, to check messages, to write an entry here. I'm working on a story that I can't quite bring to the place I want it to be and it's so frustrating. The idea teeters on the tip of my tongue, I review it for the strain of a message, or a story, about me and my siblings, trying to understand that period of time. The story just stares at me, incomplete. Maybe it's incomplete because the story isn't finished, i.e. my life is still on the gallop, getting to wherever I'm going.

Today, I'll be taking my daughter to a birthday party but I'm pretty confident I won't be hearing any stories of crimes taking place in the suburbs. Once again, I find myself cringing with a desire NOT to go. Three hours with other parents and their darlings. Is this a horrible thing for me to think? Am I really that sort of distanced mother? I don't think I am...and yet...

Lately, I've been on a roll of self-criticism. I'm not prepping well enough for classes, I'm not explaining the material well-enough, I'm not attentive and adoring enough of a parent, I'm a lousy, lazy wife, I don't appreciate my husband enough. I'd rather the kids go play...someplace else, someplace I'm not. I'm having wishes again to pack up my car and drive far away for about two weeks.

Ahhh...although...I will be soon getting a little break, the break I mentioned to Palm Springs with the girls in my family. Should be fun, I'm really looking forward to it. The funny thing is that I'll miss blogging, I'll miss my computer time. I'm thinking though it will be the time I can read and do nothing. Plenty time for writing and chatting at home when I'm trying to escape...

...them.

M is at my side as I type, whining about going to the party which starts in about 45 minutes. I have to wrap the present, I have to get dressed. I have to breathe deeply to overcome those intense desires to call and cancel. Can you imagine the chaos then? It's almost tempting to see the house in an uproar, the crying, the screaming, the dramatic pronouncement that she hates me.

Of course, I'd never do that.

I would never do that to the sweet girl who takes a shower with me, who asks me to bend down so she can pour water over my hair, who always arranges the bottles on the shelf and stands with her feet pointed like such a lady even though nobody has ever taught her to stand that way. She's patient now at her age to have her hair washed, to tip her head back in the water and close her eyes tightly so the soap won't sting her eyes.

No, I'd never do such disappointing acts to indulge my own flaws and cracks in the self.