Poem Thursday - Lucky You

You are so lucky it's Poem Thursday or you would be hearing about how D6 is home sick AGAIN. Three days last week with a cold/cough/fever. This morning he threw up.

Oh, I wasn't going to tell you about that.

So I'm in a Mary Oliver/Billy Collins/Pablo Neruda rut.

If anyone has some suggestions of other poets I should read please let me know.

But for today -- Mary Oliver. This one is from Thirst.

A Pretty Song

From the complications of loving you
I think there is no end or return.
No answer, no coming out of it.

Which is the only way to love, isn't it?
This isn't a playground, this is
earth, our heaven, for a while.

Therefore I have given precedence
to all my sudden, sullen, dark moods
that hold you in the center of my world.

And I say to my body: grow thinner still.
And I say to my fingers, type me a pretty song.
And I say to my heart: rave on.

Ten Things Tueday

Ten Things I'm Going to Do Today

1. Take D6 to the library

2. Try and find all the library books that are due

3. Get the evil eye from the librarian because I will be checking out books with other books overdue and not found yet.

4. Talk to an old friend from college that I haven't talked to since college -- she's calling me tonight.

5. Try and help J10 figure out how to manage homework -- as in have a long-term plan for projects and upcoming tests (huge massive sigh).

6. Read

7. Play even more Scrabble and Word Twist on FB.

8. Make risotto

9. Get my kids and husband to try the risotto (this probly will not happen)

10. Take a nap (ok, this is probly not happening either)

3:01 a.m.

If I would have gotten up and written at 1:57 a.m., when I first woke up, I'd probably be asleep right now.

I feel like my life has turned into one of those crazy stop-motion films and it's taking me to long to set up the next shot.

I know it's all over when I end up on my back, eyes wide open, staring at the window covered in one of those temporary paper shades.

The light comes in like the light before it snows. Except of course it doesn't snow because it's Georgia. Except it did snow yesterday and the boys have an actual real snow day tomorrow, so my insomnia has an added sense of holiday to it. Nice. Helpful.

I know I'm in trouble when I end up on my back because I can't sleep on my back. I sleep on my side. Semi-fetal, blankets pulled up close to my mouth, hands tucked under the pillow, sometimes fists clenched. I figure it's all about safety. Protection.

I figure it's all about growing up scared and alone and waiting.

I've had two therapists tell me I was probably sexually abused by my brother and that I've repressed it. Both therapists I only saw once or twice. Both listening to me spill out a brief history of my childhood and recent experiences and quickly telling me I was abused, listing the signs, putting the fear of God into me and then sending me on my way.

My other two therapists, the two I spent over a year with -- one in my mid-twenties, the other in my late thirties -- seemed to dismiss this theory. Or rather, they took it in with that neutral expression in which they take most information from you. My last therapist seemed to think I had plenty in my present to work on, thank-you very much. She was right, I did.

At this point I've decided if it happened, it happened, if it didn't it didn't. The abuse I do remember has been enough to deal with.

My brother called me several months ago --the first time I had talked to him in nine years. The reconnection that seemed about to happen during that phone call never really took. I don't know. I know my reasons for keeping him out of my life, I can only guess at his.

Now it's 3:19 a.m. I still don't feel sleepy, I'll maybe catch up on some blogs cruise Facebook, read some mail, but eventually I'll put the computer down, stay here on the couch, roll over to semi-fetal, pull the blankets up close to my mouth, close my eyes and wait, still kind of scared. Still kind of alone.