I don't watch tv. I'm not into celebrity news. All my DVD's are kid's titles. My escapism is reading the blogs of people who have much more interesting lives than I do. Generally 30 and 40 somethings who don't have kids, or don't have kids at home anymore, and have lots of time to knit, read fiction and write good smut.
I was catching up today, savouring a very well written series on a break up. I was feeling the same weight on my chest, the same weary eyes from crying, and the same peace when she escaped her pain to cuddle her friends little kids. I don't often think of my somewhat chaotic life as anyone's idea of an oasis, but there it was.
My kids are an oasis.
And I miss combing Darkmirror for nits while he plays on the computer. I really do. At 14 it is likely the last real hands on physical mothering I'll get to do with him. I get to be an ear to what he wants to share these days, but I don't get to clean out his ears. I really, really, miss that. And what I'm feeling is that weight on my chest, it does feel like a break up.
2 comments:
Oh, Kerry. I hope the fact that my chest is now heavy and my eyes filled with unshed tears that make my throat ache means that some of the weight has been lifted by sharing it.
That's so sad. But you never really lose them. Sometimes it feels like that, and yes, it does change as they become more independent, but eventually new gifts come out of the change.
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