Heavy

Awoke this morning, after sufficient amount of undisturbed sleep, with unrested heaviness I couldn't pin on anything.

Weather? Gray, windy, chilly, threatening rain.

Kids? Fine. Behaving.

Still with the heaviness.

Got Owen on bus without incident. Got self showered and dressed.

Got Bea cleaned and dressed without incident.

Felt like I was lugging around an extra two hundred pounds, legs made out of lead, left side of chest; chunk of stone.

Dragged body out of house, into car and on to library.

Sat with Bea on comfy couch reading books. Forced words out through lazy vocal chords.

Bea laughed. Because one book was pretty funny. Tried to be happy that I was able to fake it enough to fool her.

An old couple walked in. In their 80's at least. A library worker greeted them with a smile and rolled a cart full of books over to them. Volunteers. A morning of shelving books. Lovely.

The old lady was well dressed and groomed. Not smiling. Not a glimmer of happiness at all.

Come on lady, what the fuck? You're OLD. You're not in a nursing home. That is something to celebrate honey.

I assume this is your husband with you? Look at him! What a little cutie with his pants pulled up to his sternum, shoulders hunched up to his ears. He's smiling.

Why aren't you?

You got to grow OLD. With another by your side even.

OLD.

Do you even worry about our planet evicting us? About where your next mortgage payment is coming from? About the Chilean grapes giving your kids cancer?

No. Didn't think so.

You got to get OLD. Put a fucking smile on your face and put the fucking books on the shelves.

Try to see how lucky you are.

Did manage to squeeze out a smile to the old man before I dragged my 400lb self out of the library.

Bea wanted to take the long way home, past the horsies.

Sure. Why the fuck not. Want to go to the playground while we're at it?

Playground packed. Looked like an official gathering of some kind. Me and my heaviness wanted no part of socializing with other parent types, but Bea was into it. So.

Playground.

Bea climbed and skipped and slid and ran.

Saw an older woman whom I recognized but couldn't place. It bugged me, and my heaviness.

She walked past me several times.

Finally, it hit me. As she walked by again, I grabbed her hand and looked her in the eye;

"Denise Soandso."

"I thought I knew you!"

I'd cared for her niece for two years. She'd had MS and passed away last February. She was 52.

We talked for a long time. She still hasn't gotten over Denise's death. I told her that we spoke of her often at work. That the room she'd occupied for so long was still 'Denise's room'. That we'd all loved her and still miss her.

Bea had to go potty. I lugged my 600lb self over to my car and drove home.

Rice for lunch. And carrots. And olives.

Sky darker gray.

Will you just fucking rain already? I'd feel so much better if you just let loose. Please?

TV Bea?

Ok.

Good thing the Lazy boy can hold 800lbs, because me and my heaviness needed to put our feet up.

"Mommy, you awake? I was quiet because you were sleeping."

Really? My 1000lb ass deserves such a sweet little baby girl?

But I did in fact sleep. Had a dream even. About a sister popping in for a visit. A sister who in real life would never do such a thing.

The nap, and dream, relieved me of a few hundred lbs maybe.

Read Bea a little Beatrix Potter.

Bestest friend Lil dropped off for 'playdate'.

Lil's Mom attending wake for friend gone at 58.

Allowed Bea and Lil much coveted dress up privileges. Girls squealing happiness. Bedroom trashed. Me. Not caring.

Heaviness? Lightening?

Owen arrives at 4pm. Signing from his seat on bus; "Lil here??"

Signing back; "Yes".

Owen runs yelling into house; "Lil here!! Lil here!!!"

More dress up. Owen in dresses.

Lightness returning.

Kids eat supper. Owen out eats us all. Who wouldda thought? The kid who didn't eat 'til he was FIVE, eats more, eats his VEGGIES, better than the 'normal' kids.

Bea and Lil play dolls. Owen asking/signing;

"Sunshine song? From Giant Meatball movie? Like in Daddy's truck?"

"Ok Buddy."

Locate song. Download and load up iPod.

Owen loves his song.

Can he even hear these terrible lyrics?

"Hurricanes of happiness."

"Cloudy with a chance of love."

Do I care about the cheesiness?

Now that I'm almost back to my 160 lbs?

Nope.