I need some “home again” pictures, but forgot to bring a camera to any of this weekend’s events. I’m forgetting a lot, just now. I am kinda zonked. I packed my days as full as I could while in London, and arrived home to the reality that these days are also packed, and that’s not humble-bragging. That’s it-won’t-stop-and-I-can’t-get-off-starey-eyed-exhaustion talking.
Yesterday, I was up at 6AM to take the soccer child to her last indoor game of the season. In Mississauga. I think all the parents were in high-five mode — we made it through all those Sunday morning winter drives! After the game, the child and I continued on to London (not that London), where she had a long-course practice in a 50 metre pool, and I sat for two and a half hours and worked, with a small interlude for a nap when I simply couldn’t keep my eyes open. Eleven hours after rising, we were home again. I felt like the walking dead, but the kid was feeling manic. She wanted to go for a run. So after a supper of baked potatoes served with a ridiculously ample selection of toppings (thanks, Kevin!) we put on our running shoes and ran to the park, enjoying the light and the warmth. But the quick 5-kilometre run she’d envisioned was hampered by a) a nagging hamstring issue (me) b) too many baked potatoes (both of us) and c) the beginnings of an asthma attack (she’d forgotten her puffer). So we walked, then jogged, then ran, then walked, then jogged, then ran. And then she still couldn’t sleep, and stayed up later than me, reading Harry Potter. (I am now officially at the stage where my children stay up later than me sometimes; also, when shoe shopping on Saturday we discovered that her feet are a full size larger than mine.)
I worry about this kid. She does so much. And she doesn’t have much time for fun. Yesterday, she dragged along a huge organic chemistry textbook in order to work on her upcoming science project, and as she sat on the turf holding the book she didn’t seem embarrassed by her soccer teammates’ “why are you reading that??!” questions.
Because I spent so much time with the one kid, I was missing the others. Before supper, I had time to supervise practice for our resident reticent pianist by literally plying her with candy. Great parenting. And on Saturday evening we did hair cuts and hair brushing for all. It took hours!
I’m trying to return to routine, finding it more challenging than anticipated. I wasn’t expecting to still be so tired. I will need a shot of caffeine to fire me through this evening’s reading. Please come! It’s at the Starlight in Waterloo, doors open at 7:30, readings at 8. I’ve got a poster around here somewhere. But I forget where. Here’s a link to the Facebook event page.
I’ll be reading from The M Word. The title of my essay is “How to Fall.” This could be my motto, today, and on most days, as I attempt to balance atop a shifting pile of responsibilities and desires, arms out wide, knowing I’ll fall, and trying to do so with grace and humour, at the very least.