Aaron tells me that I am a nice mommy,

you’re being so nice.

When am I not nice?

Although I know my patience runs thin

at times.

We women have been leaving the workplace in droves,

rushing about, teaching, scheduling, cleaning,

exposing the rust underneath that even with choices

this system doesn’t always run the best on equality.

What I wanted was to slow down.

My day consists now of a carousel of schedules,

cleaning, rhythms of eating and snacks

and constant, constant interruptions.

Even writing this, for myself, I made myself pause

mid-cleaning, said to myself create…open yourself

to the possibility.

I have been stopped and grabbed and pulled at.

They want bathing suits on–it’s November.

They want to create a slip and slide outside, they run and

they are getting along so it feels wasteful on my end to

continue this fools journey of expressing myself.

Where am I in all of this?

I am found in the chicken broth brewing on the stove,

I am found in making a little out of nothing,

shopping locally,

letting fresh produce run down our chin.

I am there.

I am not always in the other moments.

In the dull moments.

I think though the invitation is there,

I used to wake up and feel

my eyes sting.

Dread almost of moving my limbs.

I have woken up with more fervor,

this is good work too.

I can be there and here and involve all of me.

This is a layer of me.

Perhaps I scoff that it was imposed on me.

That I had to choose.

To make others feel better,

to not look past the gold and flaky


I get questions like ‘aren’t you lucky to stay home with them

at this time?’

But-never trust a response with a but-at least you get to have the choice to stay home.

The never ending pressure to be grateful.

Gratitude imposed turns into

bitterness and dust.

Sometimes these days are really, really fucking hard and I want to be

anywhere else but here.

Other days, moments, I revel in sweet, pure joy of the way my sons eat an apple

and the way my daughter chews her lips when she creates her drawings

and stories.

I don’t have to be grateful, because it cuts the corner of being present.

I am trying to just stay on the course of eyes open.

Never before have I experienced all these sides of me.