Pencil Therapy

If there's one thing I could change about today? I'd make it stop raining.

And that's saying something.. because, I love the rain. Don't believe me? Ask my husband..

But if we could just save these little drips from heaven for another day, that'd be fab. Because I'm tired of the white-knuckled eye-balls popping out of my head driving. See, I have to take The Boss to his dance class this afternoon, and I don't see so well. See the glasses over there on my face in my picture? Yeah.. well, I got them back when I had two kids.. and I wasn't even pregnant with a third yet. And that's saying something.. Don't believe me? Ask my husband.

When it's raining, everything is blurry. Like when you wake up in the morning and you open your eyes before they're really ready to be opened. Or when you open your eyes under water without goggles on.. Add some darkness to it and it becomes a big black mirror with red and yellow streaks smeared across it like a pre-schooler's finger painting.. with glitter. I breathe out a huge sigh of relief when I pull up in front of J's office to pick him up at the end of the day, so happy that I am finished with my driving duty for the evening, so relieved that we made it there in one piece.

Relief. Like when I have a chance to sit down with my laptop and empty my brain out on to the screen. I was trying to do dishes today, they hadn't been done for a day or two - I tell you, I'm a terrible housekeeper.. not something I'm proud of, but there it is (I'm not even going to tell you about the taquitos on my dining room floor.. probably from yesterday.. but potentially from Tuesday..). Don't believe me? Ask my husband.

But I had a hard time focusing on even finishing that task as words started swirling around in my head. Sentences and paragraphs started forming in my mind, taunting me and teasing me, daring me to abandon my necessary duties and go release them into tangibility. There are times when daily life begins to feel like a tiny prison, my responsibilities close in on me slowly suffocating me and making me want to cry out in desperation. Leave me alone! Go away! Get off me! I must escape!

Then I have that chance.. sometimes I have to steal it "Hey, boys.. keep an eye on your sisters. I'm going to my room... come get me if someone's bleeding." Other times, I notice that all is right in the worlds of my offspring and I jump for my little keyboard and let my fingers dance across the keys. Once my fingers and my brain are drained and spent, I sit back and let out that sigh. I can breathe again. I can clean up a mess. I can do the laundry. I can feed the kids. I can function. I can relax. I can drive in the rain.