always the mother

point a to point b.

that seems what most of my life is planned around.  moving people, goods, myself from one point to another desired area.

so it goes.

and you know what, it is so fucking hard to be a mom and move from point a to point b, because you have all this stuff. you have sippy cups and diapers, you have violins and endless amounts of water bottles, you have loads of half-drank starbucks drinks tossed in the floor, and you have little people poking you in the ass when you take a seat.

it sucks, so part of my time, i have been trying to create this minimal approach, some type of organized chaos to get my family out of the door, and to prevent us from making 3-4 trips back to make sure nothing is missing.





i'm trying to take the stress out of downtown trips to the market and record stores, and i think we have done a pretty good job becoming suburban-urbanite family.

we have Rae, which as trin has pointed in a previous post, she wears usually hoodies, jeans and some little purple shoes, we bundle her up in her pink polka dotted jacket when it gets too cold, but as soon as you say "bye-bye" she's ready.

well, until you brush her hair.  she hates that, she will scream the scream of a thousand beaten children once that brush touches her hair.  i don't get it.  it is the scream of a million fits.





and then we look at zane.  improperly dressed in his shirt for sub-degree weather simply unaware.  gracefully leaving his heavy jacket at the dining room table.

and trin is bringing up the rear, in his cool jean jacket and beanie that he can never seem to find.  a Mary Poppin's bag filled with crap that is aways in time of need.

so, i pack one bag a small simplistic, bag filled with diapers and snacking in time of need. utilitarian in the most sensible way.

and this is how we function,  mom always being the sensible one.  the one who brings diapers, and remembers snacks.

not as the one who let their daughter explore the local target.

that's not me, i'm the reserved one with bandaids in her back pocket, never the quarters to make the mechanical elephant move up and down.

it is my duty.  my job to remember orchestra performances and doctors visits.  the curse that i carry for being the one to birth the children.  and sadly, i understand my place.

i watch as trin claps at Rae throwing a ball across the room and making a scowling face, trin manages to giggle, as i try to clean up the mess to inform her that it is not appropriate behavior.

i will never be the Disney Land mom who allows their child to eat ice cream for dinner and stay up too late.

i can't

because i'm a mom.