My eyes are a gravel pit and my head feels like it’s full of
the cotton that comes stuffed in the top of pill bottles. Everything rattles
today.
I had a dream last night/this morning about a castle in the
sky, and a purple balloon from Hillary Clinton, which made me think of you,
even though that’s a thing I’ve been doing less lately. I wanted to show it to
you but even in my dreams you are far away.
All of the moms went to Tik Tok without us. The moms didn’t bring
us fried pickles. I’m not sure who “us” was, maybe everybody. Everybody I love,
you were all there. Your moms were all there.
I don’t know what this means, except I’d like to see where
you come from. I want to meet the moms and look for you in their faces and
gestures. I want to hear That One Story, the one that makes your ears burn. She
promised she’d never tell it again but you both know she will.
I love you. I have
sharp teeth.
I want the moms to meet each other, like we could be kids
again. They could drink coffee or tea at the park while we Red Light, Green Light, Red Light, Green Light our way into
becoming. What would they talk about?
Anything. Everything. Or maybe nothing.
I want to see where you come from, who you come from. Maybe
where you’re going. Maybe where we’re all going.
That’s all, I think.
-b
I really like this idea- like that misty image of little us running around on a park playground while our moms swap recipes and worry about us falling off the swings, while simultaneously feeling grateful they met another mom who hates being a mom sometimes too. Or maybe she feels exhausted because she has to pretend to feel wonder filled with motherhood, when all she really feels is like she is losing herself.
ReplyDeleteOr maybe she isn't talking to the other moms at all, and is instead pretending to be the evil monster who is tracking you down through the jungle gym labyrinth on all fours; entirely unaware of her own discomfort in a metal land made for tiny people. I bet you could write an entire memoir based on the moments moms have in public spaces.
I would love to interview moms about their experiences in child-oriented spaces. Kids' birthday parties, for example. Where the only thing you and all those other humans have in common is the fact of your children. And what if you can't befriend your kid's friends' parents? Does your entire social life turn into a small-talk charade? Any moms out there have input?
ReplyDelete