1 Mother 2 Another

My month-long marathon of rehearsals and
shows is finally over – show, closed; makeup case, put away.


Now to deal with the clean-up.

Both girls are at the uttermost edges of
their limits: patience is worn thin, tempers fray easily, fears pop
up in an instant, separation anxiety is back in spades.
Cora’s constantly telling me I “do too many
shows” and “too much Pilates teaching”, and
Maddie simply weeps and clings to me when I leave the house to
work.


Everyone’s told me that the girls will be fine; that
it’s healthy for them to see me do things other than
“be” a mommy; that they’ll pop back into
“normal” in no time at all. And I believe everyone, for
the most part. Kids are resilient creatures who can bounce back
quicker than adults from any situation, and this past month has
been a wonderful time for the girls to drink deep from the Daddy
well. They’ve reveled in their time with him, and he’s
given himself wholeheartedly to them. So the month is not some
irreversible fatality that’s hit our family.


But it is a bomb detonated in our midst, and the fallout will take
some time to burn off. I’ve got mountains of clothes to wash
and fold and put away; vegetables to introduce back into our daily
diet; bedtimes to re-affirm; discipline to re-instill; and a house
that simply needs to be picked up and shaken out and put back
together again.


Time to get the house in order.