pink-footsie-jammies

No pringles for breakfast yet.
Just coffee thus far.
Beckam is running around the house naked, drooling onto his belly.
I am trying not to be too busy for him.
I stop washing dishes and squat down so he can fall into my chest.
His little fingers pat me on the shoulder.
He is telling me thank you.
His body is morphing from baby into tiny man.
Muscles show under his skin. 
His chest puffs out like a baby gorilla and propels him forward.
Legs follow his upper body momentum, and he is almost running.

Sophie is moping around in her pink footsie pajamas.
Her hair is matted.  It looks like she has been sleeping for days.  She has.
She is truly sick, which isn't nearly so fun as being kind of sick and staying home from school.
Last night she moaned, "I don't wanna stay home again tomorrow."

I'm kind of like this too.
When my body is well, and I am eating moderately, exercising....in flow......out flow....health.
I want to eat.
I want to make eye contact. 
I want to go to the grocery store. 
I want to step out into the cold and march up the hill to begin a run.
I want to listen to Sophie's prayer before bed.
I want to......

But when I get caught in the whirlpool of food obsession, it all seems like a chore.
I don't want to get dressed. 
I don't want to answer the phone. 
I don't want to wash my hair. 
I don't want to read Pepper a book. 
It all feels like pushing through plaster which is quickly heating up and hardening.

Susanna Coffey
 She captures what it feels like to be alone

This is me when I am sick.
It starts with eating too little and ends with eating too much.
Simple.
Then I am in the bog.

Right now I am coming out of the time when I eat too much.
Not a full blown binge.
Just a constant dribble of food making static in my consciousness.
I am like a mom who says,
"I just leave the t.v. on all the time, ya know, for background noise."

This has always seemed insane to me.
Why would you want to immerse a child in chaos?
Why not teach them to listen?

Susanna Coffey
This is why emptiness is scary

I know why.
Because emptiness is scary.
It doesn't have to be, but it is.
I try to fill it up. 
I want to learn to rest in it.
I am still learning how.
Maybe it would be easier if the emptiness were quiet.
Then it might feel like rest.
Instead it is surrounded by kid noise and domestic duty.
But it is still there.
And I don't want to be afraid of it.