Mad Woman - October 11, 2006

A tiny voice bellows out its loudest anger in the background, most likely accompanied by crocodile tears and wet cheeks, resounding the plight of the independent 13 month old - I will not go to sleep, I will not go to sleep. And yet, all is quiet on the western front, or in the front room anyway. The three year old sleeps. The cats sleep. The air is cool. The sky is clouded. And here I am typing away like a mad woman starting sentence after sentence with "and" and getting away with it. No red pens or bifocals here just a really big bag of Lindor chocolates, a good book, a squishy sofa and an ice cold glass of water calling to me. But, do I concede? I do not. My mind, the mind of a madwoman, AKA mommy, racing with excitement, lingering on the hope of an hour of quiet solitude. Which mountain should I climb first, label garage sale items, 5 loads of laundry, build that bird feeder, sweep the kitchen floor, excersize, call my mother. My fingers just keep typing, surfing. As long as I sit here in this squeaky old American frieght computer chair nothing else is real, right? A good strong dose of denial, procrastination, and outright beligerence is the best medicine for anyone with a pile of chores. But alas, the clock ticks on. Resounding louder and louder with each passing second. Echoing a warning in the back of my mind dinner, dishes, bathtime, will you cut it out already I scream as I stop my self from smashing the clock. Deep breath. Compose yourself. Its ok. You can sit down and read your book. 20 minutes. Relax, everything will be there for you to finish later. Quiet sigh, muscles relax, book opens, eyes close, sleep. Sleep falls in and I follow it like a puppy on a hot trail. Ahhhh, thats what I'm talking about.