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Tuesday, January 04, 2005

Back To The Insanity

Back To The Insanity

Yep. Just as I envisioned, the madness has returned to take its rightful place in my world. After two weeks of having kids around constantly, (did you notice how little I was posting?) the holidays are over and school has resumed. As usual, I don't wake up to the sound of my alarm going off at 6 am. I wake up to the sound of The Grommet and Caris fighting over the bathroom. Then they move to the kitchen and fight over the toaster (no, not the Hot Toddy type), then they move back to the bathroom. It's a moving argument. It travels from place to place in the house.

I sometimes lie there, in the waning darkness between night and morning light, and listen; knowing that I'll soon have to get out of my warm bed and play referee. I remember a time when that sound exasperated me. I worried that it happened because they hated each other. I fretted over it, thinking that if they fight like this now, why would it be any different when they're grown? Averie reminded me that she and Caris used to do the same thing, yet now, they enjoy each other's company and seek each other out for counsel, companionship, and fun. That was a comfort to me, and so now I just let Caris and Bryson go at it. They'll have snipey words for each other whether I'm there or not. Someone is going to get the last Pop-Tart because it would be too "nice" to split it, and I don't much feel like playing King Solomon.

We're experiencing a winter storm out here in usually sunny Cali, and the rain is pouring down. I glance over the kids as they're about walk out the door. Caris is pink and pretty in her new pea coat, but I remind her that it's probably not her best choice for a rainy day. Her smile disappears momentarily. Still, I look her up one side and down another. She's resplendant and co-ordinated; jeans, black and white striped shirt, pink chandalier earrings, black and pink heels, pink coat. I know without a doubt that all of her friends will be wearing all of their new Christmas loot as well. I wink at her and give her my umbrella, because I know she has her heart set on wearing her new coat, rain or shine. It's a fashion thing that I just should not interfere in.

Then Bryson comes to the front door wearing a hoodie sweatshirt. I tell him its too wet and cold for just a sweatshirt and my usually compliant son turns to me with a look on his face like I just asked him to cut off his right hand and retorts; "Mommy, are you serious?" Um, no son, I was just forming words with my mouth and shooting them in your direction. Do what you want with them. Apparantly, even though he's had a cold and a sinus infection over the course of his winter break, he's just "too cool" to wear a jacket. I find myself watching as he walks out the door with his sister, sharing her umbrella. No fight in me. At 15, if he doesn't know what to wear in the rain by now I say "screw it." I remind myself that this is the same child who refused to wear more than shorts and flip-flops out in the snow when we lived in the midwest. Of course he was only 6 years old then. Maybe temperature just doesn't register in him. I close the door, they turn and wave, and they're gone.

It's quiet. Very quiet. I haven't heard the sound of silence in two weeks. It really is deafening, and I don't like it, so I put on my new Norah Jones CD and I've spent the morning putting away Christmas. It's funny how long that takes. The memories that I went through when I unwrapped the things while we were decorating, are the same memories that come to mind with each ornament I tenderly re-wrap for storage. Only this time, they have another year of memories to go with them. A year of new joys, a new family, new and wonderful friendships. Special friends who will understand when I say that these are the things that fill the "gourd" that is my heart. For the first time in my life, I feel like a whole person. The missing pieces have been found and set into place. Love abounds in so many ways. I have found that I can let go, and let love. I think that I'm growing up. Finally.


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