readjusting
I spend my solo days with an unexpectedly delicate sense of contentment that I embrace with gratitude. but at 4pm, the almost illicit silence enclosing my home is violently dismantled as my sons detonate impudently. after a week of public school immersion I suspect that the rocketing whining and fussing and crying have more to do with my children's need of releasing and discharging frustration at the end of the day than with a flawed education. I am usually adamant about the rules in our house but lately I've conceded a little more contradiction, noise, jumping on beds, harmless acts of rebellion, tv watching and california-rolling with blankets. I try to be a recipient, a bridge, a bundle of mushy love expanding as much as needed. and I have absolutely no idea whether what I'm doing is right or resolutely wrong. some things change and it is pure and simple. and some shifts are more challenging.
I'm still trying to figure out what time is most appropriate to load the dishwasher.
Reader Comments (5)
I loathe them.
I don't handle change well and usually spend a couple of weeks treading water and seeing how it all fits together before I set up the perameters...