fisticuffs.

This afternoon in the city we were stopped behind a streetcar letting people out at a stop. The man in the car behind us was losing his mind. Laying on the horn, shouting, shaking the steering wheel. I smiled sweetly in the rear view mirror. My son looking back was wondering what his problem was. Didn’t he see the people getting out of the streetcar and the red light just beyond? My first thought was, buddy, let me tell you what that guy’s problem is; first he’s driving in a jeep with no windows and second he doesn’t have a shirt on. It’s hard to hold back at times like that. Instead I said, it’s important to remember that you can’t let others anger make your decisions or something like that.

I know exactly what I would tell my girls about that guy. Stay away from him. further elaboration involving that shirt wearing business and aggro neck veins popping out  With my sons, it’s different. I can wear a beneficent grin all I want and he (probably) won’t knock my teeth down the back of my throat but with them, he could. It is at this point that I realize I am out of my element. Little boy fisticuffs are light years from this cocksure macho behaviour they will be navigating.

you look like a detective that likes bad music.

Last night was my first weaving class. Well, the first of this weaving class. I have been trying to weave for about 20 years. Let’s hope this class sticks. I was nervous, leaving the house at night (did you know the world exists after dark!) and without my small people armour. It was easy breezy, good times. I had nothing to worry about. Of course.

When we moved to Toronto I was pregnant with our third child. So I started all over, back to square one with meeting new friends and finding my footing. Since that third child there has been a fourth then the fifth and last child. With each child you need to reset and find your place again. You lose about 2.5 years to sleeplessness and yoga pants per child if you want to get mathmatical.

Going places and doing things without small people attached to me hasn’t been an option so I have bided my time and whittled away the daylight with activities at home. I’m a Cancer star sign, I do home well. I’m just ready to venture out a little more.

Within these years of babyhoods time has tramped on. And now I  am getting told where the wine section is at the booze store. I hate wine. But my eldest son tells me that I look like one of those ladies that drinks wine. Do I? It is a startling realization when your outside stops matching your inside.

In the hinterlands of my thirties the sheen of conformity is interesting, Allowing the access I never had before.

inspired by these lyrics
I feel I’ve got more in common with who I was

Than who I am becomin’.

-Black and Brown Blues by the Silver Jews

and what my children think of my new jacket.