Need Waitress

Here's the problem. The kids are getting bigger. I'm screwed. Lilly is the most horrifying little reminder, with all the talking at 2 years old - who taught her how to talk? She's really funny - she's just in on every conversation, like she's manning the meeting we're all having and if only she knew more words, she'd have us all fired.

But it's not fair. I wasn't done free floating with all my babies, and now I have to think about life after babyhood? Taking a desk job at some point? It's like trying to eat a box of Good N Plenties after you're used to heroin. The Good n Plenty's are good (and they're plenty) but dude, I'm used to being swallowed up. Whole. No wonder I've been trolling the internet looking for a horse in desperation. Maybe stuffing an 1100 pound animal in the hole will help me feel heavier and worthy again.

It's the need factor. I've been filling needs for 9 years now - happily, quickly a virtual Need Waitress. My tips have been crap too because kids are notoriously broke. This has been a good gig. My longest ever where my attention and creativity haven't waned. I have in fact become more of myself.

I guess I have to run alongside Lilly instead of after her, trying her yank her legs out from under her to stifle her with my own tremendous needs. It's just that I'm all oiled up, the engine runs great and my job is running away from me. It runs away from me BECAUSE I've done it happily, and well. So is that it? The mom just standing in the street, watching the kids growing up, up and away. Clutching the shards of her apron. Hoping for the disastrous Thanksgivings and Christmasses where the kids come home tattooed, pierced, dyed, with prison boyfriends? Or wait, is there a happier ending, where Nathan owns his own towing company, Emma is a rock star and Lilly is a radical politician? Wait, is that the happy ending? Why is there an ending? I don't like any ending where there's an ending involved.

They are only 9, 7 and 2. I haven't even taken them to Europe yet. There is still time ahead. They still love motels. They still call me Mommy. I've just been hiding from them lately when they come home from school because I like them so much. I don't want to care more. If I care more I am surely doomed. My heart is a tender, swooning maiden. A delicate pie crust. I am alive, and I feel it all. It's scary to love people so much.

I spend most of my time trying to tone it all down, not feel everything, so as not to disintegrate on the spot just from the hugeness of spirit in my house, in those faces, connected to me. If only I did half so well with people my own size. My own husband.

If I like you, I guess I can't show it because man, it is so beautiful.

Horses understand this. They just stand and look at you with those big, soulful eyes. They have no words, no arms to fling around to distract anyone. When I run away from my life 2 days a week to my simpler horse job where I ride for people, I stand alone with the big horse Deco in the dirt arena and stare at him and he just stands there, content just to stand there. Extra happy if I have a carrot.

My brain is big and unused, and my life before kids was alot more organized. Here I am now, trying not to feel it all and feeling bits of it anyway. We are a mess. I've spent the last few days heaving stuff out of the cluttered garage. I'll get rid of it all, in 100 degree heat. Get rid of everything, nothing matters. Old clothes, old toys, why am I hanging on to stuff? It's all going away. Even in the midst of kids crawling around, voices in the garage, discovering old toys, I'm still covered in all of them.

I just have this desire to stop everything from happening. Why is it going? What's the rush??

Living truly, this is a passionate way to live. Guess I better get used to the big love, big heartache. Like every great love story.