I left you last somewhere between my mojo and the space in my head that I can dig too hard into. Where reality tickles me, hurts and sometimes delights. A space in which I need to figure out if I have a blog or a blog has me.
I’m not really sure if I have an answer to that so much as a better understanding of how I tick and what makes me tock.
I swoon for stories. I believe they are also a powerful means of social change. And art allows me to function.
There ya go; that’s it, ://the end! A Month of reflection in a nutshell, with Mack on my lap as I write this, kicking his little legs and laughing!
I had 86 days with the kids this summer. That’s 2,064 hours or 123,840 minutes.
That’s a full time job with overtime and yet I feel like I’m just getting to them. I suppose it’s because I’m dealing with human beings here, and I’m only just getting to know my own self, let alone completely different people (who happen to have come out of my body). But anyway. Point being, we spent some serious time together.
I was just saying (complaining?) on facebook how ready I am for a break – oh man, I am SO READY!!! – but, yeah. Being able to walk around the beach with my eldest? Priceless.
He’s a fun kid. Who can get stuck in his own head, just like his mama. And his daddy too. Actually, he seems to be more alike the both of us than the other two are; it’s like our genes got all ready to pass on exactly who we are to just ONE child and he got them.
It felt like a breath of fresh air. It was a breath of fresh air.
I had no idea how much I could miss my own child, even while I am around him every day. The two little ones take so much time and energy – energy!!! – that I can give very little to Micah by way of quality and individual time. I miss him. I miss just walking with him and not having to watch out for Moxie bolting or Mack’s crying or whatever. I miss talking with him about things he wants to talk about – other than Minecraft/Star Wars/Ninjago/Legos. yeah.
I’ll end here.
The ball of stories that I hold now is so big that I just needed to dive in and start and let the ends unravel in the telling.
Meriah Nichols is a counselor. Solo mom to 3 (one with Down syndrome, one on the spectrum). Deaf, and neurodiverse herself, she’s a gardening nerd who loves cats, Star Trek, and takes her coffee hot and black.