Tuesday, November 7, 2006

there is no more perfect drug than having children

they keep me up for hours
make me fiercely productive at times
and profoundly lazy at others
jerk my emotional yo-yo

initially they spark and then eventually totally ruin any chance of a "solid", "normal" relationship with someone else

they make me happy, mad, sad, distressed, impressed, frantic, stoic, hungry, not-hungry, dirty, clean, arrogant, very, very small, tired, tall, strong, weak

they run the gambit from Ground to God and back again to smash me against the rocks of exhausted single parenthood, leave me wanting merely a massage, a meal, a bath in someone else's love for I cannot find my own but am filled to overflowing with my children's

i bear witness daily to these little miracles that run around building themselves with my gentle guidance and the experience itself rebuilds me at the same time and part of me is filled with wonder and part of me is filled with fear and part of me is worried that i don't know how to steer

thanks for the comments recently, they warm my soul.

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