These days I hurry.
Put your shoes on, grab your coat, where did your socks go?
I face forward; head down, soldiering on.
I talk and talk, words, words, words. I am monotone as I review my phone messages and check the weather, the bank, my grades. I call them by the other kid’s name and catch myself.
Every footfall causes my jaw to clench.
I am always strategizing: nap-time, school pick-up, when to get groceries.
In between moments I wonder what I’ve become.
What will my children remember?
These days they beg me to sing.
They want me to listen, or read or laugh.
I buckle down; batten down the hatches, resolve to be carefree.
I read, I make up funny dances, I sing rounds all by myself, the words coming to me as though I am struck by the Spirit.
I am bound for glory.
It is all temporary.
My jaw hurts.