tips and tots

I've been eating, breathing, dreaming Olive Garden, filling out day care papers, worrying about my babies, and wondering about how my family is feeding themselves. There's so much to do and it's all happening so fast the road beneath me is a blur and I worry I'll get run over if I don't keep running, but when I risk a quick glance in the rear view I'm impressed and inspired with the distance I've come (well, we, really) with little to no damage. It's enough to revive me and provide me with the hope I need to stay my path.

Tonight was my first night soloing as a server in about 5 years, and it happened to be a very busy Friday night. I kept afloat and even had three separate tables tell me they'd request me the next time they came in. Everyone I work with is so supportive and encouraging, it makes this all so much easier.

Claire cried this morning because she couldn't go to "school" today, while Josh reminded me on my way out the door that he did NOT want to go. He is very fond of his birthday gifts and really was offended that he had to leave them so soon after receiving them yesterday. Over all though, those little babies are doing very well with the sudden 6 hour days away from familiarity. Still though, I stress for them imagining how terrorizing it would have felt for me at their ages.

I miss cuddling them and kissing every scrape. I dread the day I find I don't know what they are talking about because I wasn't there for the background, or to find I can't understand what they're saying or what they know because I wasn't the one who witnessed what happened or taught them what they're explaining. I worry and hope that they'll continue to be stretched and encouraged and comforted as if their every fear and cut was the priority to be addressed and mended. They're gone 4 days a week for the active 6 hours of each day. Will I still have enough time to be their main influence? I have to find a way to ensure they don't feel I'm abandoning them. I know that what I'm doing is for my family and is necessary at this stage of our lives, but by the time they're old enough to know that, will it be too late? Will they already have it engrained in their fragile minds that Mommy left them? Will they still cry out for me when they fall, or will it be some name I can't pronounce? These are the things I wonder when I come home to a dark house of emptied play things and no used dishes.

I have the next two days off. Maybe my confidence in my choices will be elevated after some good quality family time. I hope so. Winning the affection of an Olive Garden patron is flattering, but I can't survive without the faith and security of my family, money or not.

once red haired

I used to idolize Tori. She spoke to a quiet only I had, in my self consciously self centered universe. I could be beautiful because she knew me and I loved her.

I grew out of me. I saw the quiet music everywhere. I listened. I fell asleep, a promiscuous slumber party of hard dreaming, harder waking. Not forever was the story forever ago.

Vacated vacations and no destinations make a hard schedule for the retired wanderer, so I danced to ticking and whispered whims of adopted patrons. I punched through the clocks and squirmed to the surface and sneaked to an alter and love and nine months and nine months and nine more, shedding the clock and the dance while they grew.

I get up from my made bed now, shaking off responsible hours, to the rented bedroom of my night scared daughter. Hush kissed tears I swallow her boogie man. He has the bills and my sleep but I take him to save her and I toss with the dance and when I had red hair.