"If I had less space and the kids crowded around me more, that would be the best," said no one ever.
I am cooking in the kitchen and my helpers are having a knock-down drag-out about whose apron is whose, and their flailing bodies manage to block every single cabinet that I need. And I am calm--well--calmer, because I am thinking, my new house will have an island and they will sit there and smile and be sweet as together we make shape cookies and put them carefully into the spotless oven
So yeah.So first, yay! Because we have to get the mortgage approved and sign a bazillion papers and maybe cry a little and eat a lot of pasta, but then we are going to move! And be nomadic no more! Our own place; no one can kick us out! (unless they give it back to the Arabs, of course, there is always that. Crazy world. Nuf said.) To a big apartment and it has a garden and a porch the size of my current everything and it is gutted so oh well we have to renovate it, and it is going to be awesome.
And my mind says, Yes! And it will also be perfect! And the birds will sing and dinners will be perfectly balanced yet surprisingly tasty and the kids will start eating things like broccoli and I will never raise my voice!
It's been a hard year for a lot of reasons, but also and especially my father died and for a while nothing seemed worth anything. Conversations in the park were insipid(er) and cookie making was draining. But there is grieving and then there is sadness, and sadness covers everything with a thin, dampening layer. And while I have experienced sadness in the form in which helping yourself means accepting that for right now you can't do it by yourself, real sadness, regular sadness, is a choice. If I relinquish that control and put that choice onto anything external--new house, non coo-coo for Coco Puffs kids, a smaller waist--I will never be happy. There will always be something else--when I get THAT, I will be happy--and my hands, reaching reaching reaching--will always be empty.
Also, this happened:
(walking home from gan, sipping on bottled water, with my mind on the heat and the heat on mind)
Coco-pop: "Ima, the scary lady pinched Zahavi, and it hurt her."
Me: #freakingouteverymothersnightmare "When? Which lady? In the park? WAS THIS IN THE PARK?"
Coco-pop: "No, on her ears she pinched her."
Coco-pop: "It feels like it. When Zahavi got earrings. So can I get earrings? Just with no pinch."