In the Thick of It

There’s only the thick
In the thick of it
Twenty-four seven
Three hundred sixty five
Always on, always with
Never alone
In the thick of it
Early work, evening work
Dinner laundry breakfast lunch
Dinner laundry breakfast lunch
“Mama will you read me a story?”
More stories than time
More babies than laps
In the thick of it
Joyous screeching, angry screaming
Noisy running
Happy giggly noisy chaos
Swirling around and around and around the little house
“Mama watch this!”
In the thick of it
Lessons to plan in the wee night hours
Stealing moments of silence
Tired babies to tuck in
So tired mama can get tired time to be her tired self
And to do the things that should be ready
When the first eye pops open tomorrow
Twenty-four seven
Three hundred sixty five
In the thick of it
There are new friends, old friends, hurt friends, friends hurt
Boyfriends, girlfriends, best friends, not friends
There’s “See you tonight, dear,”
As he heads out the door
And passing in the hall
Is when you see him most of all
In the thick of it
Drivers’ licenses make him stay up now
Papa’s turn to be tired
Spending tired time
Hoping his baby is not too tired
And the other drivers are not too tired
Mind wandering
Pushing away thoughts as fast as they come
In the thick of it
There is a family
In a bubble
And there are babies
Big now
Pushing, pushing against the bubble
Elbow here, fist there, knees everywhere
Pushing, pushing until the bubble that holds them
No longer has smooth round skin
But distorted, lumpy, pushing spots
Where the membrane stretches so thin it becomes nearly transparent until
POP!
There is driving, there is a dorm room, there are classes, there is long highway
There is now a Self
You are both so proud of her
You are both so scared for her
In the thick of it
There is more pushing
There is more stretching
There is POP! POP! POP!
More work
More tired
More highway
More hurry money deadlines now

And then

You are at last alone
In the thin of things
It is quiet
Quiet in the garden
Quiet during movies
Quiet reading novels
Quiet in your chairs
Having quiet conversations
In a quiet house
You are looking at each other
“I love you,” you say
“I love you,” he says,
Quietly
The heavy, deafening quiet throbs in your ears
You look down
You see your lap
You feel your lap
It is empty
It is empty and weightless
The emptiness is crushing
The longing makes your legs hurt

“I WANT TO BE IN THE THICK OF THINGS!” you scream.
I want to be in the thick of things
Twenty-four seven
Three hundred sixty five
Is it feast or famine?

Then I choose feast.

I will eat it up, drink it up, nourished, full
I will feast.

I will choose to feast.

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