This is a journal entry from late fall of ’09.
Being a mother is a hard-working job. It’s non-stop and requires a certain finesse.
Tonite it’s a rooster in the house and sessions at the desk trying to get the bird’s likeness on paper – assisting my colorblind son to choose the most realistic colors – to the bath that must follow this after-dinner project. Watch out for poops on the floor. Where’s King George? Our dear little button quail is somewhere upstairs. Hopefully our cat Mina is uninterested in him. Hopefully. (“I come in peace, I come in peace, you can relax, I am coming to be with you in peace, to know your soul, I’m coming in peace…” Elihu sings to his rooster) Now I must create a loving and flawless transition to the bath upstairs. Then bedtime. (“I come to warm your soul and to warm the soul of the earth…”) I must keep things soft, gentle and unhurried if I can – oh how will this unfold tonite?? It is all so good in this moment, but at what moment will it turn an about-face? Will Linda Blair visit tonite? Or will we make it? (“I come to warm the face of planet earth, I come in peace, sit and relax and do not worry, I come in peace. I mean no harm. I really don’t. Sit and relax by my side…”)
Elihu’s song to his rooster continues, and I ready myself for the transition to bedtime.